


Silver Bloom

by SirMuffinsworth



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Adopted Saihara Shuichi, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Despite my previous contributions this is not a hinazumi fic at all, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Heir Saihara Shuichi, Hurt/Comfort, Kirumi gets the big sad, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Similar situation to Kirumi's love suite, Slow Burn, So the hinazumi purists can look elsewhere, Unrequited Love, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29865705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirMuffinsworth/pseuds/SirMuffinsworth
Summary: Kirumi Tojo begins her new servitude at Saihara Estate, and meets the young heir to the detective dynasty, Shuichi Saihara, for the first time.As she gets to know the boy, she finds a certain fondness for him growing within her. Her pride as a maid, however, insists that she keep her emotions at bay.If only the bloody petals she would begin coughing up would stop getting in the way of her cleaning.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Koizumi Mahiru (mentioned), Saihara Shuichi/Tojo Kirumi
Comments: 31
Kudos: 62





	1. Planting of the Seeds

August 19, 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

Kirumi Tojo stepped out of the cab in front of the gates, nodding to the man curtly and handing him his fare.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive in, miss?” the man asked, craning his neck out the window, “It’s a pretty long driveway…”

Kirumi shook her head, “No, thank you, the letter I received was very specific in that no vehicles without permission would be allowed past the gate. If you would please, open the trunk so that I can retrieve my luggage?”

The man shrugged and nodded, pressing a button on the floor of the car to pop the trunk open. Kirumi’s bags were not abundant, and she was much stronger than she looked, so she should be able to make the journey in one trip. She had one bag of uniforms, each of which was, well, uniform to the others, the trademark black-and-white scheme that marked her for what she was; a maid. She also had a small purse full of toiletries and other essentials, such as makeup and soap, as most masters did not provide such things. Kirumi had only a few personal items, nothing meaningful of note, and as such her baggage was light. 

“Thank you for the drive,” she nodded again to the cab driver.

“Sure thing, miss,” the man nodded before driving off. Now alone at the gate, Kirumi turned to observe the residence that would become her work and home for the foreseeable future. Saihara manor was an impressive establishment, she had to admit. Many acres of land surrounded the white brickwork mansion itself, gates in by a large wall that looked like it took a fair share of upkeep to maintain. From the letter she had received from the master of the house, one Hisao Saihara, she knew she would not be the only servant in the household, rather just the personal servant of him and his son, whose name she did not know.

Of course she had done research on the Saihara family, it was common practice, seeing as she would be essentially entrusting her life to them as long as they continued to meet her rates and provide lodging. She knew that the Saiharas were a long family of detectives, most of their names being well-known amongst the upper-class as private investigators for the highest of political intrigue. Hisao, the current patriarch, had earned his name and reputation by solving the assassination of the King of Novoselic, King Brenly Nevermind III. From the few whisperings Kirumi had picked up through questionable internet sources, she knew his son was something to behold as well, but for what, remained to be seen. 

Kirumi spotted a buzzer on the wall to the side of the gate. She pressed the button and waited a few moments.

“Saihara Estate, who am I speaking to?” came the crackly voice of an elderly woman through the speaker.

“My name is Kirumi Tojo, I was told to arrive today to begin my work as a maid to the Saihara family,” the maid replied curtly, “I believe I should be expected.”

“Oh yes, Miss Tojo. You just hold on a moment there, I’ll buzz you right in. Will you need help with any luggage sent out to you?”

“No, I will manage fine on my own.”

“Alright, dear, I’ll meet you out on the front steps and take you up to meet the master.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the speaker clicked off, and after a few seconds, a loud mechanized whir signaled the gate opening. Kirumi stepped through the brass entryway and began making her way up the long driveway, admiring the intricate hedge designs that bordered the asphalt.

“Most of the land is open field, very few trees,” she thought, wiping a few beads of sweat from her brow, “That won’t be kind to me in this summer heat. Oh well.”

As she approached the polished granite steps leading up to the entryway, she spotted an elderly woman, likely in her seventies, waving to her from outside the door. She bowed curtly as she approached.

“Greetings, I assume you were the one I spoke to by the gate?” she said.

“I was, yes,” the woman nodded, “I’m Chie Arima, it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Kirumi smiled, observing the woman’s clothing and finding it strikingly similar to her own, “I see you are dressed as a maid as well. Are we to be working together from here on?”

“Oh no, I’m afraid not,” Chie shook her head, “In fact, this is my last day at Master Saihara’s estate. You’re taking my place going forward, at his right hand.”

Kirumi blinked, “I… see. In that case, you have my word as a maid that I will keep good care of the masters and the estate in your absence.”

“I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get you up to your quarters, alright? I’m sure you want to unpack before you meet the master and get started.”

“That would be perfect, thank you.”

Chie pushed open the doors, leading Kirumi into a magnificent entry hall. A red and gold carpet stretched to two spiraling staircases leading to an upper floor balustrade above, with doors on either side of them. The floor appeared to be marble, the same as the several pillars that lined the corners of the room. Kirumi even noticed a few gleaming suits of armor on either side of the inner door. Everything was spotless, not a speck of dirt or dust as far as her keen eyes could see.

“Quite the spectacle, hmm?” Chie asked with a twinkle on her aged eye.

“It is… extensive,” Kirumi nodded back, “But I have seen more tasteless exorbitance before. Remarkably well-kept as well, I must compliment you for that.”

“Oh, no, most of the cleaning and such is for lesser servants. What I do, and what you’re going to be doing, is serving as the hand of the master and his son. You’ll be something of their personal assistant, seeing to their needs and such.”

“I see,” Kirumi nodded. She had been in similar situations in the past, and she just hoped the master and his son would be more civil than some masters she had served in such a proximate capacity to.

Chie led the new maid up the stairs and down a series of hallways, eventually leading her to a grand mahogany door with a brass knocker and handle.

“This will be your quarters,” the woman said, opening the door, “You’ll find everything that will be necessary for your life here. The bed is double sized, the en-suite bathroom has a standing shower installed, and plenty of storage space. Also, I believe that walk-in closet should be sufficient for any clothing you have to unpack.”

Kirumi blinked, glancing around at the room in surprise, “This is… hardly befitting of a maid, I should think. This room looks like a bedroom that would be held by one of the masters, or a guest bedroom for important visitors.”

Chie shook her head, “As the master’s hand, you get a higher station here than the rest of the servants. You will also have the authority to give them directions in the master’s stead, you know. You are correct, this room was originally designed to be a guest bedroom, but it was changed around to suit the needs of a maid such as yourself.”

Kirumi nodded slowly. Such luxurious accommodations would take some getting used to, but it wasn’t like she was about to object. She made quick work of unpacking what little luggage she had, before turning back to Chie and bowing.

“I am finished,” she said, “I believe I am ready to meet the master now.”

Chie nodded, “Very well, he will be in his study. Follow me.”

Kirumi was once again led through a series of hallways. On the way, she made sure to allot anything she saw to memory. The routes, the hallways, the locations of rooms, it was pertinent she know this entire mansion like the back of her hand as soon as possible. After about a minute of walking, she was once again face to face with a wooden door, this one rimmed in gold and standing two feet above her. Chie reached up and knocked on the door gently.

“Who is it?” came a smooth man’s voice from within.

“It is me, Master Saihara,” Chie replied, “I have the new maid with me, Miss Tojo.”

“Ah yes, of course. Send her in.”

Chie gestured to Kirumi to enter, who realized that she would be going in alone. She nodded and gently opened the door, finding the man himself sitting behind a polished oak desk and poring over notations. The entire wall behind the man was a large window, showing off the impressive acreage that encompassed the manor’s grounds.

“Come in, Tojo,” Hisao waved her over, not looking up from his files. Kirumi bowed respectfully and approached, eyeing a seat in front of the man’s desk.

“May I?” she asked, gesturing to it.

“Of course.”

Kirumi sat, smoothing out the front of her dress as she did so. After a few moments and a few scribblings, Hisao closed his files and finally turned to get a good look at her. Kirumi suppressed a shudder as she felt the inquisitive gaze of what she knew to be a master detective sweep over her, analyzing every aspect of her appearance.

“You have quite the reputation for someone your age, Miss Tojo,” Hisao eventually said, “No older than my son, and yet you’ve worked your way up in the world of politics like no maid I’ve ever seen before.”

“Thank you, Master,” Kirumi nodded respectfully.

“I trust Chie has already filled you in on the basics of what you’ll be doing around here?”

“Chie informed me that I will be acting as something of a personal servant to you and your son, and that I will be in a position of authority over the lesser servants in the household. That is all, however.”

Hisao nodded, “Yes, all of that is true. I’ll arrange a letter to be delivered to your quarters soon detailing everything that is expected of you, as well as your hours. Chie will be continuing her service until the end of the day, I suggest you take that time to get acquainted with the mansion’s layout and the facilities within.”

“Very well. As for my wage, I assume it will not be an issue moving forwards?”

Hisao smirked, “Your wage is vast, Miss Tojo, but I expected nothing less of a servant with your acclaim. No, it will not be an issue.”

Kirumi nodded, “In that case, I have no more concerns. I look forward to my usefulness to you, Master Hisao.”

The man nodded, “I’m sure you are. While you get acquainted with the mansion, please introduce yourself to my son, Shuichi. He will probably be in his personal study, one of the servants can direct you there. You are dismissed.”

Kirumi nodded and stood, bowing curtly before exiting. Chie was gone, probably having headed off to continue her duties, and so Kirumi was left alone to wander and acquaint herself with the building.

Saihara estate was nothing short of magnificent everywhere she went. The kitchens were state-of-the-art, the many servant-manned facilities were rather excessive in their utility, and the recreational side of things was through the roof. 2 pools, inner and outer, a games room, a private cinema, a tennis court, there was more everywhere she looked. Also, in almost every room, she could see a servant polishing the floors, dusting the many portraits that lined the hallways, carrying trays of food to and fro, this was clearly a very tight ship. Every servant nodded at her respectfully as she passed, seemingly acknowledging her authority before she even began her work. 

“Excuse me!” she called, waving to a servant that was bust polishing a set of swords mounted on the wall of the grand dining hall. The servant, a young man, whipped around to meet her eyes.

“O-oh, um… hello!” the servant bowed.

“I am Kirumi Tojo, I will be taking the place of Miss Chie beginning tomorrow,” Kirumi said, “I am in the process of getting acquainted with the manor, but I can’t seem to find the young master Saihara’s study anywhere. I was wondering if you would be able to direct me?”

“Oh yes, Miss Tojo,” the man bowed, “We were made aware you would be coming in today. Master Shuichi’s study is… difficult to find. You see, he’s a very introverted boy, so he prefers to keep to himself. He arranged for his study to be rather far away from the rest of the house. I’ll lead you there.”

Kirumi nodded and followed the young man down yet another series of corridors that she committed to memory as she walked. As they went, she passed by several storage closets and descended two storeys underground, reaching the area that was usually reserved for servant use only. She cocked an eyebrow at this, but didn’t question the young man servant as he led her up to a simple, standard wooden door that Kirumi would have assumed was just a linen closet or a fire exit had she not been being explicitly told otherwise.

“This is it,” the young man said, “Knocking won’t do you any good if he’s working in there, you’ll need to wake him up from whatever reverie he’s in.”

“I… see,” Kirumi nodded, already imagining what this strange-sounding boy she would be serving would be like, “Thank you, I shouldn’t keep you from your duties any longer.”

The servant nodded and left, waving over his back to her. Kirumi knocked on the door anyway, but received no answer. After trying again to similar effect, she sighed and pushed the door open anyway.

Her poor order-loving heart jumped at the scene in front of her. The room wasn’t exactly large, and it had a distinct cramped feeling because it was mostly unfinished concrete underground. There was a desk, of ornate oak similar to the master’s, that had been unceremoniously pushed aside against the wall. Several bookcases and chairs littered the room, many out of place and haphazard, and the bearskin rug was incredibly wrinkled and ruffled from being trod upon. Two out of the four walls of the room were completely bare, and the other two were covered floor to ceiling in photos, documents, sticky notes of nonuniform coloring, all tied together by garish red string. Sitting in the corner of the two walls and poring over still more documents, photos, and notes was a young man with raven hair and pale skin, sporting a black uniform and muttering to himself. It seemed he hadn’t even noticed her enter.

“Master Saihara?” she asked, wincing at the mess the boy had made on the floor all around him.

No response, the boy just kept muttering to himself as he jotted down notes in frankly incoherent cursive.

“Master Saihara,” she tried again, much more flatly. Again no response.

Eventually, Kirumi just sighed and laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, shaking slightly. The boy’s attention snapped up to her, his eyes widening.

“A-ah! Who are you? When did you get here?” he asked, looking from her to the open door and back again.

“I am Kirumi Tojo,” the maid sighed, shaking her head, “I am the new maid that arrived today to take Miss Chie’s place. I was told by your father to introduce myself to you.”

The boy blinked, before blushing somewhat and getting to his feet, “O-oh, right, sorry. I must have been pretty spaced out, huh… It’s nice to meet you, Kirumi. I’m Shuichi Saihara.”

Shuichi extended his hand for her to shake. Already halfway into a bow, Kirumi blinked at it before hesitantly taking it and shaking it.

“The pleasure is all mine,” she assured, “I look forward to serving you, Master Shuichi.”

Shuichi’s eye twitched slightly, enough to make her cock her head in confusion at him.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no! Not really, no. Just… I’m not a huge fan of being called ‘master’ anything. It makes me feel… I dunno, just weird. Chie just calls me Shuichi… or I guess ‘called’, since she’s leaving…”

Kirumi noticed a bead of sadness flash across the raven-haired boy’s eyes, but she chose not to push it, “Well, that is hardly proper of a maid of my station to refer to you so informally. You are my master, both in title and effect, after all.”

Shuichi sighed, “I know, I know… I just don’t really like how it comes off. My dad, sure, the title of Master suits him, but… I’m just Shuichi.”

Kirumi blinked, “Master Shuichi, you should not understate yourself such. According to the research I conducted before coming here, you seem to have already made something of a name for yourself in your detective work, much like your father.”

Shuichi blushed before sighing, “That’s… kind of you to say, Kirumi, but… it’s tough for me to agree. I mean, I’ve only solved a handful of cases, most of them by chance. I don’t really deserve my acclaim, if you want my honest opinion.”

Kirumi squinted at the boy before turning to examine the two walls that were devoted entirely to investigative insight and organization, as well as the many more notes sprawled all over the floor. The boy’s tone did not come off as deceitful, sarcastic, or joking, but what she heard just didn’t line up with what she was seeing.

“I find it… difficult to believe that someone with your reputation garnered it solely by chance,” she measured her words.

Shuichi scratched at the back of his head, uncomfortable, “I guess when you put it that way… still though, would it be too much of a problem to just call me Shuichi? No… honorifics or anything like that?”

Kirumi sighed begrudgingly, “...very well, I suppose if you make that official request of me, I must honor it.”

The raven-haired boy smiled at her, “Thanks, Kirumi, I appreciate that.”

She just nodded in return, “I live to please. Now, is there any special requests you have for my comportment and duties in this household going forwards? Such as, anything specific that Miss Chie did for you that I should maintain in particular?”

Shuichi thought for a moment, before giving her the answer that she feared the most, “Not really, except that Chie and I kinda had an agreement that I would be in charge of this room.”

Kirumi’s eyes widened as she suppressed a gulp. She knew there was no way she would be able to be at ease knowing that there was a room like this under the roof with such a mess within.

“Are you…” she strained, “...certain?”

Shuichi covered his mouth with his hand, seemingly covering a smile, “Yeah, sorry. I have a system, it just… doesn’t really lend itself towards traditional cleanliness.”

“Is something amusing?” she asked him, eyeing the smile he hid.

“Ah, no, sorry. It’s just… your face when you asked me if I was sure was so tense. If you have something to say, Kirumi, you can say it, I don’t mind.”

The maid blinked at him, before sighing, “...I apologize, I should not have allowed that to slip through.”

Shuichi eyed her strangely, “Uhm… what do you mean?”

“As a maid, I should not have allowed you, my master, to see my discomfort. As such, I must apologize.”

The raven-haired boy was silent for a few moments, before shaking his head sadly, “Kirumi… I wouldn’t have gotten angry at you or anything if you had complained, you know. You’re a maid, that means you’re probably a pretty orderly person, I understand if this room might make you a little uncomfortable. You don’t have to hide that, really.”

Kirumi shook her head, “Your words are kind, Shuichi, but I’m afraid my pride as a maid requires that I decline. As your servant, it is my living duty to serve you and assist you, and unnecessary emotion such as that will only get in the way. My principles are steadfast.”

“...alright then, if you say so,” Shuichi sighed, “We just met, but I can tell you’re a very interesting person, Kirumi. I’ll be… looking forward to talking with you a little more. If that’s alright with you, I mean.”

“Should you request conversation of me, I will oblige you gladly,” Kirumi nodded curtly, “Now then, I should get back to my viewing of the house, I fear I have already taken up much of your time.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, but sure. See you later, Kirumi.”

The maid bowed politely before making her exit, leaving the detective to resume poring over his disorderly notations.

“Master Shuichi will be a rather unconventional master,” she thought to herself as she returned to the main mansion area, “But I have contended with far more eccentric. I just hope he will not order me to take any time off, he does seem the type. I’m a maid, after all, I have a standard to upkeep, regardless of who my orders come from.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poll I put out in my last work was pretty divided, and a lot of you expressed interest in seeing me do some shorter chaptered work, and since I already had the idea to to some Sairumi hanahaki, here we are.
> 
> As ever, I hope to continue to entertain throughout this story.
> 
> Updates should be semi-regular, given my writing habits you should expect at least 2-3 chapters a week, if not more. Those of you who have followed my previous chaptered stuff as it was getting put out, you know how badly I sometimes get the writing bug to put out new chapters instead of doing normal people stuff. Like sleeping.


	2. Nurturing the Soil

September 1, 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

“Blunghh… Kiru...mi? Is that you?”

Kirumi glanced up from polishing the many kitchen knives with a rag to find a particularly disheveled Shuichi Saihara, still in his bedclothes and rubbing sleep from his eyes, his uncombed hair leaving more than the one usual cowlick in his raven hair.

“Ah, Ma---- erm, Shuichi. Yes, I was just beginning my work for the day. Good morning.”

The young detective blinked against the light from the kitchen chandelier, “I don’t know if I’d call four thirty AM ‘morning’. I’m surprised to find you awake this early.”

“I could say the same to you,” Kirumi replied, “Were you having trouble sleeping? I can brew you some tea if you would like to help you in that regard.”

Shuichi waved a polite hand, “No, it’s fine. My sleep schedule is so irregular, I don’t even really have a circadian rhythm anymore. I fall asleep whenever I remember that sleep exists, and I wake up whenever my body decides it’s ready for more. If I’m up at four thirty, so be it. Still though, don’t you not officially start working until six?”

The maid shrugged slightly, “That is the official start time of my hours, yes, but the truth is that as long as I’m under this roof, I must serve my purpose as a maid. Besides, I finished my duties early yesterday, so I still got eight hours of good rest.”

Shuichi just blinked at her with a dumb, still-sleep-deprived expression. She stifled a light smile.

“As such,” she said, “Since cooking staff will likely not awaken for another hour or so, shall I fix you breakfast, Shuichi? Over-easy eggs, low-fat bacon, and toast with strawberry jam, as well as black coffee and a shot of espresso, if I recall correctly.”

The boy shot her a bemused expression, “I don’t recall telling you my favourite breakfast.”

“I spoke with the kitchen staff a few days after I began working here, in case a situation such as this were to come up. I know you and your father’s preferences by heart.”

Shuichi sighed with a soft smile, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to comb it, “Well, I mean, I’m not about to turn you down. You certainly earn your keep, Kirumi, I’m impressed. Although, have you eaten breakfast yourself yet?”

Kirumi blinked, “Oh, well, no, I have not set aside the time to make myself breakfast yet.”

Shuichi nodded, “Alright then, make yourself something too. We’ll eat breakfast together, I’d like to take the chance to speak with you, if that’s alright.”

The maid shook her head, “Oh, I fear it would be wholly improper for me to share a personal meal with one of my masters such as this. I am perfectly content with waiting until a break in my duties to---”

“Kirumi?” Shuichi cut her off, “Do I need to iterate what time it is again? Nobody else is awake enough to care, and I certainly don’t pay too much attention to what’s ‘proper’. Besides, if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to… become closer with you.”

Kirumi hesitated. In all honesty, the offer was tempting. She was loath to let her hair down in front of one of her master like this, but she couldn’t deny the growling of her stomach at the proposition of breakfast, which she usually didn’t eat until at least eleven. Besides, she had to admit, there was something… disarming about the light impropriety of the young detective. She had only been serving the Saihara household for half a month, but she had already grown accustomed to the mild banter the two of them would get into from time to time. 

“Very well,” she finally said, “I shouldn’t take long.”

“Great,” Shuichi smiled, “Thank you, Kirumi.”

Tightening her apron around her waist, the young maid got to work. She was an excellent mutitasker, her arms like blurs as she moved from one task to another seamlessly. Given that and the state-of-the-art kitchen that the Saihara residence had, she had Shuichi’s meal whipped up in a matter of minutes. Careful not to let his coffee get too cold, she settled for something quick and simple for herself. Some sliced fruit and a quick batch of earl grey would get her through just about anything until lunch. 

Plating both meals exquisitely and plattering them both, Kirumi joined Shuichi in the dining hall. The detective smiled and gestured to the chair across from him, which she took after setting his meal down in front of him. 

“Looks good,” the boy smiled, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Thank you, Shuichi,” Kirumi replied, “Now, you wished to speak with me about some things? Such as what?”

Shuichi nodded, taking a bite of jam toast and stroking his chin in thought. Kirumi was pleased when he waited until he had swallowed before speaking, “Kirumi… I hope this isn’t too strange of a thing to say, but you… fascinate me. Have you ever read any Max Stirner?”

Kirumi shook her head.

“Stirner was… a somewhat problematic philosopher in a lot of ways, but one central aspect of his belief system was that everyone was an egoist. Or, in such, everyone occasionally, or even the majority of the time, was acting in their own self-interest. He believed that an act of true selflessness was incredibly hard to come by, unless forced by the person to be specifically that. Up until this point, I had lived assuming Stirner had a point there, but after meeting you… you’ve just about thrown that out the window.”

“I see, so you wish to know about my philosophy surrounding my selfless devotion, is that right?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, yeah. You’re a very interesting person, Kirumi.”

“Well, if that is your request of me, I will of course explain it. I---”

“Actually, can I stop you right there?” Shuichi held up a hand, “Please don’t think of this like a request from a master or anything like that, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything more than what you want to share with me. I’m just curious, that’s all, you don’t have to indulge me if you don’t want to.”

Kirumi blinked, “Well, it’s no trouble anyways, you needn’t worry. My principles are not complex, though certainly nothing like what you describe. I live my life around a central guiding principle of selfless devotion. That is to mean that to serve my masters to the utmost of my ability, I must shelve all personal emotion that my master does not share. Their wishes become my wishes, their dreams become my dreams. Ambition to ambition, worry to worry.”

“I see… so when my father asks you to perform some kind of task for him, you make an attempt to adopt his mindset towards the task itself?”

“Yes, of course. In my opinion, that is the kind of theology that all good maids and butlers should subscribe to.”

Shuichi chuckled, “I’m not so sure someone of your expertise should be considered a standard. After all, if you’ve got nobody to outshine, you lose some of that luster that gets you all the fame you have, right?”

Kirumi shook her head, “If that were to be the case, I would be content with that reality. I am not the perfect maid, I cannot lend my services everywhere they may be needed. If my abilities were to become widespread, then more potential could be bolstered among many more potential-filled masters than I would normally be able to handle on my own. If that means living a slightly less luxurious lifestyle, so be it.”

“You say ‘slightly less luxurious’, but all I ever see you do is work, eat, and occasionally sleep. Do you call that ‘luxury’, Kirumi?”

The maid thought for a moment, “Well… why should I not? You and your father have been kind enough to open your home to me, not to mention that I am given the privilege of serving the both of you. Serving people with so much raw potential is worth much to a maid such as myself.”

Shuichi blushed, “P-potential? Well, I don’t know about all that…”

“Shuichi, I remember speaking to you about your self-deprecation already.”

“Ah, that’s r-right… sorry.”

“No need to apologize to me, simply take my words as incentive to change yourself for the better. That would suffice.”

The raven-haired boy eyed her in a strange manner as he took a long swig of his coffee. There was a brightness in his eyes that had not been present prior to their conversation, and Kirumi got the sense that it wasn’t just from the caffeine waking him up.

Eventually allowing her curiosity some room to breathe, she asked, “What is that strange look on your face, Shuichi? Is there something on mine?”

“No,” the boy shook his head, “Nothing like that. I was just thinking about how you’re basically the perfect idealized version of what a maid, at its very core concept, is. Honestly… it’s almost unnerving. As I said, I didn’t really believe a truly selfless person existed up until I met you.”

Kirumi shook her head, “If it’s not too much trouble, kindly do not refer to me as some ‘human machine’. I told you my principles, but I am hardly the perfect example of them.”

Shuichi’s eyebrow twitched in interest, “Oh, really? In that case, if you wouldn’t mind sharing, I’d very much like to hear about these so-called weak points of yours…”

Kirumi hesitated. It was only now that she realized that she was essentially undergoing an interrogation from a world-class detective heir. She got the sense that Shuichi was in his element, asking her questions in a natural flow and storing every bit of information for later use. So why did she feel so at ease? To maintain her reputation, her shortcomings were not ones she commonly publicized, but there was something to the boy before her that made her want to open up, if only a little bit.

“Konjac…” she eventually sighed, looking down, “I… cannot cut konjac. No matter how much I am taught, no matter how much I practice, I just cannot get it right.”

Shuichi was silent for a few moments. Eventually, Kirumi glanced back up to meet his gaze and found him wide-eyed, staring right at her with the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly upwards.

“Shuichi…” she sighed, “You are making that expression again.”

“What expression?”

“The same expression you make whenever I slip slightly. It’s such a close expression to satisfaction that one might begin to think you desire my failure.”

The boy’s eyes widened, “N-no! It’s nothing like that, I promise. While I… won’t exactly deny that there’s something satisfying about knowing that you’re a real, flawed human being after all, that’s not really why I’m so curious about it.”

“Oh? Then why is it, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Because you, Kirumi Tojo,” Shuichi took a polite sip of his coffee, “Are a very contradictory person. You say you strive to achieve a state of perfect maidhood, that of suppressing your own emotion for the sake of those you serve, but you don’t like it when people refer to you as some flawless automaton. You seek to overcome all of your weaknesses so that you can fulfill any request, yet the instant I compared you to that ideal you want to be, you very quickly pointed out the holes in my assessment. So, Kirumi, do you want to be seen as perfect or not?”

Kirumi didn’t exactly have a response for that. While she knew that a degree of her willingness to share her troubles with konjac was because of her growing level of comfort around the boy detective, which he hadn’t factored into his assessment, he did still raise a good point.

“You… raise a valid argument,” she conceded, sipping at her tea softly, “I must reflect on that more, when I have a break again alone with my thoughts. Perhaps there are some aspects of my philosophy that need… adjustment.”

Shuichi smiled, and she felt something small twinge inside of her, though she couldn’t quite place what it was. 

“Glad I could be of service,” he nodded respectfully, “If you want my opinion, and please take this as the opinion of a friend rather than that of a master, you should hold onto a few flaws. I know that might be a bit of a dirty word in your field, but imperfections are what make people more approachable. Cute, even. Perhaps being unable to cut konjac might be a fair trade for people feeling more at ease when speaking to you?”

Kirumi nodded slowly, “Very well, I shall take it into consideration. Indeed, it would be troublesome if future masters were to be too daunted by a perceived perfection to ask their needs of me.”

Shuichi smiled again and nodded, setting to work on the bacon Kirumi had prepared for him.

“Also…” the maid continued softly, “You say that flaws make people more… approachable. Was I very daunting when we first met, before you knew anything about me?”

Shuichi thought for a moment, before shrugging, “To be honest, a little bit. I mean, before we had this conversation, you were just what you advertise as to me; the perfect maid. That was actually one of the reasons I wanted to have this chat with you, Kirumi. I… interact with a lot of strange people with a lot of strange values in my line of work. It takes a very special mindset to make a human capable of killing another, you see. I’ve found that learning more about other people’s value and belief systems, especially when very different from your own, can help you gain valuable insight into things you didn’t have a window into before. Not to mention strengthening your bond with that person, which I hope I’ve accomplished today.”

Kirumi found herself smiling as she nodded, “Indeed. To be candid, I do feel much more… strongly bonded to you, as you put it. I see more and more potential in you by the day, Shuichi. A more esoteric person might attribute my coming to work for you as fate, if we continue to push closer to one another like this.”

Shuichi returned her smile, “I’d like that, Kirumi, I would really like that.”

The pair finished their meal in comfortable silence. Kirumi finished her tea before Shuichi finished his coffee, so she took his vacant plate atop hers and began to take them back to the kitchen to be washed. 

“One… final thing, Shuichi,” Kirumi said, turning back, “You said that I should take your advice as that of a friend, instead of a master. Why is that? I likely would have accepted your advice without any such preface, after all, the insight of a master detective is not one I would overlook no matter what.”

The raven-haired boy blushed a little bit, before responding, “Well… you already know that I don’t really feel too comfortable with being treated like as big a deal as most of your other ‘masters’ are. And also… I’d like us to be friends, Kirumi. You’re… nice to talk to, and I honestly hope you aren’t just humoring me out of some maidly obligation.”

“Not at all,” Kirumi shook her head, “In fact, I quite enjoy your conversation as well. If you take interest again, I would not mind sharing a meal with you at another time.”

“I’d like nothing better. Thanks, Kirumi.”

“Think nothing of it.”

As Kirumi went to wash the dishes she felt an odd sensation rising in her chest, though she couldn’t quite place what it was. It was like a halfway point between the chemical sensation of an emotion, and physical duress, and completely unlike anything she had ever felt before.

“How very odd,” she thought as she stifled a light cough with her gloved hand, “How very odd indeed…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd catch the writing bug. No fewer than four hours after the last chapter, here we are... sheesh. Haven't even gotten any comment feedback on the first chapter yet. Oh well.
> 
> I enjoyed this chapter greatly, as I have honestly always wanted an excuse to write a philosophical debate between two of my favourite fictional characters. Kirumi was just a too-perfect candidate.
> 
> By the way, I'm writing these characters as a little older and more mature than they appear in the games. That's why Shuichi comes off as a little more confident in his social skills, if still pretty self-deprecating, and why Kirumi is a lot more prim. 
> 
> Also yes, I am using the fact that these two are high-class poshes to excuse using a lot of wacky vocabulary without sounding like a twat. Sue me.


	3. Sprouting

September 7, 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

“And with that, it’s perfect,” Kirumi nodded to herself as she slid the final volume into the last shelf of the vast library. Hisao Saihara was a very well-read man, and had a certain thing for keeping every book he read, regardless of if or not he intended to revisit it later. Hence, a very large former ballroom of the estate had been repurposed into a grand, multileveled library that Kirumi had just finished organizing alphabetically and sectionally.

Not having anything else to do at the moment, Kirumi found herself drifting towards the fiction stacks. A maid must be well-read in non-fiction to improve her skills, and Kirumi normally would not have paid the sensationalist stories a second glance, her time serving Shuichi had piqued her curiosity. The young detective had a fondness for good stories, especially detective fiction, funnily enough. Kirumi had found herself breaking Shuichi from just as many reading reveries as work-oriented ones, especially as of late, when work had been lulling for him.

Her chartreuse eyes flitted over the spines idly, her imagination sparking ar what may have laid within, and why a prolific detective such as Master Hisao might have selected such volumes to read. She rolled her eyes when she came across a series of books seemingly dedicated to children with bird wings, and concluded that perhaps her master wasn’t quite as eternally serious as he self-advertized.

“Miss Tojo?” she heard a man’s voice call from the doorway, “Are you still busy in here?”

“I just finished not too long ago,” she said as she emerged, identifying the speaker as one of the cleaning staff.

“Perfect,” the man said, “You’re wanted in the entrance hall.”

“Of course,” she nodded, “I’ll head down there now. Thank you.”

The man nodded and departed, leaving Kirumi to make her way hastily through the labyrinthine corridors of Saihara estate, which she had memorized long ago already. Eventually emerging into the entrance hall, she spotted a young woman with purple hair sitting properly on a lounge couch.

“Excuse me,” Kirumi said as she bowed, “I am Kirumi Tojo, the head maid of this household. Are you a guest of Master Hisao’s?”

“No,” the girl replied, shaking her head, “I’m a colleague of his son’s. I’m just here to drop something off, I don’t mean to disturb him today.”

Kirumi blinked, “A colleague of Shuichi? Are you a detective too, then?”

“I am. My name is Kyoko Kirigiri, I’ve worked several cases with Shuichi in the past. He speaks highly of you, Tojo.”

Kirumi blushed slightly, but felt a minor unsettlement in her gut as the young woman spoke. It was like there was no emotion in her voice, only deadpan seriousness. Clearly, much more the stereotypical detective persona than Shuichi was.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Kirumi bowed, “I shall give Shuichi what you are here to deliver, if you like.”

“That would be perfect,” Kirigiri nodded, withdrawing a small box and a white envelope from her purple jacket, “I’m not much for gifts myself, so I just wrote a card. I understand my apprentice, Hajime, has included a small something in this box, though he didn’t tell me what it was.”

Kirumi blinked, taking the two items from her sofly, “I see, I shall let him know. If you do not mind my asking, is today some form of special occasion?”

Kirigiri eyed her curiously for a moment before responding, “Yes, as a matter of fact, it’s Shuichi’s birthday today. I’m surprised you weren’t made aware.”

A jolt of shock ripped through the maid. She had had no idea Shuichi’s birthday was approaching, let alone here already! She could have asked, she should have asked, if only to be prepared. It had just escaped her mind between garnering information about his favourite foods, pillow materials, and all the rest. Such a silly little mistake, hardly befitting a maid of her supposed caliber.

“I… see,” she measured her tone, trying to hide her shame, “I’ll deliver it straight to him, then. Is there anything else I can help you with, Miss Kirigiri?”

“No, that will be all, thank you,” the detective girl turned and began walking out the door, her flowing purple hair cascading over her shoulders. Kirumi was alone in the entrance hall again, trying to unravel her shame at missing Shuichi’s birthday, her confusion at the young woman’s bland tone and eyes, and however many other things.

“Shuichi is normally in his office around this time,” she thought, “I should also prepare a small something for him, given that this day only happens once a year…”

Kirumi pondered for a moment, before deciding that she would just bake him a small something. Shuichi was not much of one for sweets, so perhaps a sour variety of tart would do nicely. She nodded to her self, setting out towards the kitchen. The staff there did not question her as she laid out the ingredients she would require. Dough, cherries, sugar and the like, and she set to work, away from where the kitchen staff was readying lunch.

Around an hour later, Kirumi emerged with a platter of still-warm sour cherry tarts, as well as the letter and package that Kirigiri had delivered, and she set off down to Shuichi’s office. Several servants, cleaning staff and the like, noted the delivery with an odd look in their eyes, but she paid them no mind. Reaching his nondescript door, Kirumi delivered three restrained raps to the wooden surface and waited.

“Come on in, Kirumi!”

Good, he wasn’t too engrossed in anything. She opened the door and stepped through, her eyes widening as she realized that all of the furniture in the room was actually where it was supposed to be. The investigation board had been taken down, and Shuichi sat on a plump chair with a book in hand, glancing up at her with a smile.

“How did you know it was me at the door?” she asked, stepping forwards.

“Simple,” the boy smiled, “You’re the only one who ever comes down here other than me. That and the knock, you can actually tell a lot about who’s at the door by how they knock.”

“I see,” she returned the smile, feeling the strange sensation in her chest once again. Gently, she set the platter down on the coffee table, allowing Shuichi to revel in the tart aroma that began permeating the cramped concrete room.

“Oh my,” he said, “I don’t recall asking you to make these for me. Thank you, Kirumi.”

“Think nothing of it,” she assured, “A young Miss Kirigiri dropped by to deliver a card from her and a gift from someone named ‘Hajime’. It was through her that I found out it was your birthday, so I chose to surprise you.”

Shuichi tensed slightly, the smile falling from his face, much to Kirumi’s displeasure. The boy sighed, “Well that’s… very kind of you, Kirumi.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No… not really. I just don’t really like my birthday very much. It’s a strange thing for me to celebrate, really.”

Kirumi eyed the boy, “Shuichi, in my humble experience, nearly every young person claims that they dislike their birthday, but very few of them mean it.”

That brought the raven-haired boy’s smile back, if only for a fleeting moment, “I suppose that’s true. It’s still a bit of a special case for me, I mean, it’s not even my real birthday. It’s just the day I got found on the orphanage steps.”

Kirumi froze. 

“Orphanage… steps?” she asked, her brow tensed as she observed the boy.

“Oh right, I’m sorry, I suppose you wouldn’t know since nobody told you,” Shuichi scratched at the back of his head softly, hiding something Kirumi couldn’t see behind a polite smile, “My dad, the head of the Saihara family, isn’t my birth father. I’m adopted.”

That was a rather large load of new information, so it took the maid a few moments to process. Shuichi was… adopted? She had just automatically assumed the connection between Hisao and Shuichi was genetic, given their mutual affinity for detective work, but she supposed that did explain the lack of a mother around the estate.

“I… see,” she nodded softly, “I’m surprised I was not made aware of that. I apologize.”

“Don’t be,” the boy waved her off, “It’s not something dad likes to share, really, but there’s no real reason for you not to know. In truth, he’s just kinda bad with people, never got far enough into a relationship to get married. Still needed an heir though, and I guess he saw some kind of potential in me when he came by the orphanage.”

Kirumi nodded, “I understand that, I myself see much potential within you, even beyond the noteworthy accomplishments you’ve gotten so far. It stands to reason tha---”

Kirumi was cut off by a sharp, painful cough as what felt like saliva caught in her throat. She covered her mouth with her gloved hand to block the spittle, but as the coughing fit wore longer, Shuichi stood up and eyed her with concern.

“Kirumi, are you alright?” he asked, his hand hovering over her shoulder in case he need to stabilize her.

“Yes… I believe so…” she replied as she caught her breath, “I apologize, Shuichi, that was improper of me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, but his eyes were still murky with concern for her.

Intent to push that aside, Kirumi redirected him to their conversation, “Anyway, you dislike the arbitrary birthday they gave you based on when you were found at the orphanage?”

The boy nodded, sitting back down solemnly, “Yeah, I mean, how could I not? Instead of celebrating the date of my birth, they wanted me to celebrate the day I was abandoned by my birth parents without so much as a note explaining why. The name ‘Shuichi’ was given to me by one of the other kids, just because she said I looked like a Shuichi.”

The maid nodded, laying her hand on the young detective’s shoulder in support. He accepted it with a kind smile as he continued, “I suppose we could just reassign my ‘birthday’ to when dad adopted me, but I wouldn’t be a huge fan of that either. First of all, trying to remember a new birthday after all this time would just be too much hassle, and besides, that day wasn’t exactly a happy memory at the time, either.”

“I understand. Did you have any friends at the orphanage you had to leave behind?”

“Friend, singular. Her name was Maki, she was the one who named me. She was kind to me, when nobody else was, even if sometimes she had a funny way of showing it. I still miss her sometimes, even after this long. She probably doesn’t even remember me, heh.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Kirumi shook her head, “One would have to be much more careless than you describe this girl as to forget someone like you, Shuichi.”

The boy blinked at her, “That’s… very kind of you, Kirumi. Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble, just my honest opinion. How long ago were you adopted?”

“Eleven years ago. We don’t know my real age for certain, but we know I’m somewhere in the late teens, like you.”

Kirumi nodded sadly, feeling crestfallen, “I… must apologize, Shuichi. I did not mean to highlight such a painful set of memories for you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kirumi,” Shuichi laid his hand over the one she had rested on his shoulder, setting a fluttery feeling about in her chest, “You didn’t know. And besides, I may not be a fan of my birthday, but it’s nice to spend some time with you, special occasion or not.”

She smiled back at him, “In that case, you are very welcome to my company. I do not have any other pression obligations at the moment if you would like to----”

Kirumi’s breath hitched in her throat again, sending her into another sharp coughing fit. Shuichi’s eyes turned from content to concerned in an instant, his hand flying outwards to rub circles on her back as she coughed. Each spasm sent a jolt of pain through Kirumi’s chest and throat, as she hunched over instinctively. Eventually, the coughing subsided, and she straightened back up and dabbed some liquid from her eyes where they had begun to water.

“Are you alright? That was pretty hoarse, are you coming down with something?” Shuichi asked, eyes full of worry that she didn’t feel like should be directed towards a maid.

“N-no, I am alright,” she assured shakily, “Simply… some saliva caught in the wrong pipe, do not worry about me. I will drink some water later.”

Shuichi sighed, clearly knowing that she was downplaying it for his sake, but he didn’t pry. Instead, he sat back down softly, turning towards the platter of tarts that Kirumi had brought.

“Well, these smell incredible,” he smiled, “Sour cherry, huh? Care to join me?”

A month prior, Kirumi probably would have declined the boy’s offer, but something prompted her to sit down in a chair across from the boy. She smoothed out her apron and dress as he took a small bite of one of the tarts, letting out a light “mmm” that made her lips curl upwards in a smile.

“As ever, Kirumi, you do not disappoint,” Shuichi nodded in approval, gesturing for her to have one as well. She did, and while she generally preferred bitter flavours to sweet or sour, she had to admit she had done a good job.

“Now then, let’s see what Kyoko and Hajime dropped off,” Shuichi said as he cracked open the envelope. Kirumi furrowed her brow at the plain piece of yellow paper he pulled out, with just a few sentences scrawled across one side that she couldn’t read.

“Is that some kind of secret cipher you use with other detectives?” she asked, eyeing the strange series of scribbles on the paper.

The raven-haired boy smirked as if she had just told a very funny joke, “If you can call the ability to read Kirigiri’s handwriting that, I suppose so, yeah. That one is very good at her job, probably even better than me, but she has clearly never taken a cursive class in her life.”

Kirumi smiled, “What does it say?”

“Nothing too extreme, just a short thank-you for my help with some of her cases. Kyoko isn’t really much of a person for sentiment. Or emotion in general, really.”

“Yes… I admit I did get that impression from her when we spoke in the entrance hall. Unnerving, to be candid.”

Shuichi smiled, “Yeah, she does that to people. I’m just used to her.”

The boy reached for the small box, presumably from Kirigiri’s apprentice, Hajime. It was red, with a white bow, and Shuichi extracted a pair of gleaming silver cufflinks that curled his lips into a wide grin that Kirumi found infectious.

“As expected, Hajime continues his streak of being very good at gifts,” the boy nodded, setting the cufflinks to one side and taking another bite of his tart, “I’ll thank him next time I see him.”

“That is a fine gift,” Kirumi commented, “You and he are close?”

“Just friendly colleagues, really,” the boy shrugged, “Hajime just likes giving people gifts, it’s kinda his thing. Besides, between him working as a junior detective and sharing a bank account with the famous photographer girlfriend of his, he does just fine.”

The maid nodded, “Sounds like a fine friend to have. I understand the philosophy in taking pride in giving good gifts quite well.”

“As do I,” Shuichi nodded back, “Speaking of which, when is your birthday, Kirumi?”

The maid stuttered for a moment, caught off guard, “M-May tenth, why do you ask?”

“Well, it’ll be good for me to keep in mind. If you’re still working here come May tenth, and I sincerely hope you are, I’ll have to get you something special.”

“T-that will hardly be necessary, Shuichi, your kindness is by far enough of a gift for me any day…”

The detective smiled warmly at her, “Perhaps in your opinion, but I disagree. You have a lovely smile, Kirumi, and I’d like the opportunity to bring it out with a gift of mine.”

Despite herself, Kirumi felt heat rising in her cheeks. She shook her head slightly in an attempt to clear the jumble of thoughts that bubbled to the surface before replying softly, “You are… too kind, Shuichi.”

The raven-haired boy just beamed back at her, alighting that same strange sensation in her chest. Just as she was about to press forward and possibly say something unmaidly despite herself, her apron pocket pinged. She dug out her mobile and flicked it on to find an automatic alert that Master Hisao was requesting her in his office.

“And there goes the moment,” Shuichi sighed, already knowing what was on her phone, “I won’t keep you any longer. Thank you again for the tarts, Kirumi, I really do appreciate them.”

“Anytime, Shuichi,” she replied honestly, rising to her feet. She bid the young detective farewell as he turned back to his novel, before she set out towards Hisao’s office at a brisk pace.

Just as she was ascending the stairwell to the ground floor and reflecting on her conversation with Shuichi, her throat caught once more. Like last time, pained jolts flashed through her torso as she doubled over, resting an arm on the handrail of the stairs to steady herself. She realized that her breathing was hoarse, too, as her gasps between the coughs racking her body were difficult to get through. Eventually, in one final powerful cough, she felt something give. She spat forth, a wet mass rocketing out of her throat and spattering onto the ground in front of her.

“What… on earth…?” her eyes widened as a shaky hand reached out to touch what laid in front of her, confirming the reality that she was having difficulty believing.

In front of her, wet with saliva and flecks of crimson blood, were four perfect, seemingly freshly picked white rose petals that shimmered in the hallway light like silver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the Hanahaki begins. Never written a fic with it before, let's see how this goes. Hope you guys get some entertainment out of it!


	4. The First Bud

September 9, 2021  
Nagoya Private Hospital  
\-----

Kirumi absently caressed her throat with her gloved hand as she sat down. Her last coughing fit had been an hour ago, and her airway seemed clear enough for the time being, but it was still sore. She had no idea what this curious affliction was, and she had hoped her superior immune system would fight it off in quick measure, but no avail had presented itself. Her duties were becoming increasingly hindered by the ailment, she was having trouble sleeping, and Shuichi was becoming increasingly worried about her health. As loath as she was to take a personal day, the soft look of genuine concern on the detective’s face as he caressed her back and told her to see a doctor had been enough to convince her.

The waiting room of Nagoya Private was small and ornate. This hospital only catered to members and the families of members, and Kirumi maintained a membership in case her masters ever required medical service that she was unable to provide herself. With the hyper rich clientele came top-of-the-line service and care, and Kirumi was confident that whatever she was facing would be behind her enough by day’s out to return to work.

“E-excuse me… M-Miss Tojo?” a meek-sounding young woman asked, dressed like a nurse and trembling for some reason.

“Yes?” Kirumi asked, rising to her feet.

“T-the doctor will see y-you now…” the girl looked down, hiding part of her face behind her clipboard. Kirumi just gave her a look of confusion.

“Very well, I am ready. Lead the way, miss.”

“A-ah, okay… Right this way…”

The nurse led Kirumi down a hallway, causing the maid to frown at the abysmal haircutting job that had been done to the young woman’s head. So many strands sticking out, so many different lengths… amateurish, and unacceptable. She was about to offer to cut it for her when she remembered why she was here via a sharp pain when she inhaled.

“Yes… first things first,” she thought as she stepped into the room that the nurse led her to.

“T-the doctor will s-see you in a m-minute…” the nurse murmured, “Just wait on the c-cot…”

Kirumi nodded and sat down, smoothing out the front of her dress as the nurse departed. Feeling the soreness in her throat from the constant coughing, she took a Halls roll out of her apron pocket and popped one into her mouth, allowing the medicine to coat her throat and relieve her pain temporarily.

After a few minutes, the doctor arrived. A tall, African-Japanese man with broad shoulders and a shaved head nodded at her, pushing up a pair of thin glasses and reading over a clipboard similar to the one the nurse had held.

“Alright, Miss Tojo,” the doctor nodded, “I’m Doctor Ameratsu. Your file is quite impressive, I must say.”

“I try to make a point of maintaining my own physical health to the best of my ability,” she nodded, “Which is why this is so unusual for me.”

Ameratsu pulled over a chair and sat on it backwards, eyes still flitting over his board, “Alright then, what seems to be the problem?”

“It’s a curious thing,” the maid sighed, “I have some medical knowledge myself, but I have never heard of anything like this. Beginning two days ago, I have been having trouble breathing and having the occasional coughing fit. Rarely, but occasionally, these coughing fits end up in… choking up flower petals, or at least something that looks like them.”

Ameratsu, who had been listening intently and jotting notes down, suddenly tensed, “I’m sorry, you said you’ve been coughing up flower petals? That’s what you said, right?”

Kirumi nodded.

The man sighed, rubbing a hand over his shaved head with worried eyes, “Well… that’s not good. I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it, it’s about as rare as scurvy in modern times. What you have is called Hanahaki disease, or the Love Flower disease, in some circles.”

The maid squinted, “That… sounds like something out of a fairy tale, doctor. Are you being serious?”

“Very,” Ameratsu’s tone was grave as he flipped through his file, jotting things down, “It’s one of the few diseases that… we don’t really understand, to be honest. There’s no real reason for the human body to behave the way it does, it just does. Additional research is hard to come by these days, since cases are so rare.”

Kirumi’s eyes widened in concern, “It isn’t contagious, is it? Would I be putting other at risk?”

“N-no, it’s not contagious,” Ameratsu sighed, “Look, it’s tough to explain. I’ll do my best to lay it out for you, alright?”

Hesitantly, Kirumi nodded. She didn’t like the dark look that crossed over the tall man’s face, but she figured she should allow the licensed medical practitioner in the room to lay out the facts for her.

“Hanahaki disease… isn’t a disease you catch from other people. Nor is it genetic. It’s the product of a very rare and strange imbalance in the brain, specifically regarding emotions.”

“If that’s the case, how did I contract it?”

Ameratsu sighed, “The long and short of it is… that you only get Hanahaki if you have strong emotions of love for another person, that aren’t mutual.”

You could have heard a pin drop as Kirumi’s normally orderly mind was thrown into a storm of chaos.

“T-that’s preposterous!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet, “Unrequited love, you say? I am a maid, I have no such feelings! There must be some mistake!”

“Everyone has feelings, Miss Tojo,” Ameratsu shook his head, “And actually, you saying that you don’t… is just making it more likely. People who suppress their emotions or deny their feelings to themselves are much more susceptible to Hanahaki.”

“I--” Kirumi didn’t quite have a response for that one, but his words still didn’t ring true. Her? Strong feelings of love? Even if she were to remotely consider the possibility, who could the feelings possibly be for? She wasn’t like most people, she didn’t have what could be called a social life. She didn’t even have any friends! Well, Shuichi did ask for her to consider him a friend, and he---

Kirumi’s eyes widened.

Shuichi. Did she have feelings for Shuichi? That was… perhaps a more difficult question to answer than she would like. She… admired the young detective, certainly. His skills and abilities were quite impressive, anyone could see that. She enjoyed his company, even having actively sought it out several times in the past. He was a very kind and generous master, to the point that Kirumi considered herself to be rather close to him. Much closer than she usually got with people. It wasn’t love though, right? It couldn’t be. She was his maid, perhaps his confidant, nothing more. Right?

“Tojo?” Ameratsu asked, noticing the conflicted look on her face.

“Y-yes…” she sighed, sitting back down, “I… apologize for my tone. Please, continue.”

“Alright, well, Hanahaki’s symptoms are basically what you describe. In only has one effect, but gone unaddressed, it’s very dangerous. Basically, flowers will grow in your internal organs.”

Kirumi gasped, feeling a sharp jolt of pain in the process. The deep intake of breath caused her throat to catch, and she doubled over as the coughing began. Panic flashed over the doctor’s face as he quickly stood, handing her a trash bin and patting her on the back as one would to force a baby to burp. After a few agonizing seconds of convulsing, Kirumi spat out a wet mass of petals, along with a not-insignificant amount of blood that coated the once-silver petals scarlet.

“Y-you mean…” her voice shook as she recovered slowly, “That this is because… there are flowers growing… in my LUNGS?”

“Yes, that’s usually where it starts,” Ameratsu nodded solemnly, handing her a tissue with which she wiped her lips, “As long as the symptoms go untreated, it will spread and get worse. Lungs, then stomach, then kidneys, then liver, then intestine, and then… your heart.”

Kirumi swallowed painfully, trying to get her head around the insane proposition that was apparently transpiring within her body as they spoke, “Doctor… what will happen to me?”

The man sighed, “If it isn’t cured, then eventually, one way or the other… it’ll kill you, Miss Tojo. If the flowers in your lungs grow out of control and you can’t get enough air, then… well, you’d suffocate. Flowers in the stomach can block other food from getting in, causing malnourishment. The kidney and liver can cease to function, and your blood would toxify. Your intestines can get blocked by flowers, eventually rupturing. As for your heart, well…”

“Stop…” she cut him off before her panic could cause her to begin hyperventilating, which would just bring more pain, “I… I understand. What is the treatment?”

Ameratsu got a conflicted look on his face, before shaking his head, “The treatment is… the difficult part. We can keep the flowers in your lungs and stomach at bay using what’s called the ecosystem treatment, but… once it spreads beyond that, emergency measures have to be taken. Very drastic ones, with permanent consequences.”

“Consequences like… what, exactly?”

“Well, it is possible to completely prevent the Hanahaki flowers from resprouting by ripping out the roots and basically doing the human body equivalent of salting the fields, but… that has consequences in regard to the emotions that brought the disease on in the first place.”

Kirumi felt a bead of sweat trickle down her cheek. She still didn’t fully believe that she had the kind of feelings that Ameratsu was describing, but then again… she didn’t really know what ‘love’ was supposed to feel like anyway. As a maid, it was her duty to push any and all personal emotions down in exchange for utter, selfless devotion, but she couldn’t deny, when she was with Shuichi…

“What happens…” she forced her voice to remain steady, “...to my emotions?”

“It varies case to case,” the man sighed, sitting back down and caressing his eyes, “Best case scenario, you lose the love you had for that person. Otherwise, some people lose the ability to feel love for anybody, ever again. Some people even lose several, or even all of their memories of ever knowing the person to begin with.”

Oh, so it was that simple then. Undergo a surgery, and this pesky disease would be gone, along with the traitorous emotions that had caused it. As far as Kirumi saw it, that qualified as a win-win.

“Yeah, that’s what most people say,” Ameratsu sighed.

Kirumi blinked. Had she said anything?

Yes, she realized that she did. Almost on instinct, her vocal chords had moved on their own.

She had seemingly shouted “NO!” at the top of her pained lungs.

“There is one other solution, but it’s… trickier,” Ameratsu shook his head.

“Anything,” she detected a begging tone in her own voice. What was this? This… desperation? Certainly, the worst-case scenario of losing all of her memories of Shuichi would be bothersome, but… it wasn’t even just that. What was she so scared of?

What was she trying to hold onto?

“Hanahaki… only ever happens, like I said, because of nonreciprocal love. If you can get the other person to feel the same way about you, the symptoms should clear up on their own.”

Somehow, the young maid’s heart both plummeted and soared. In order to save her, Shuichi would have to fall in love with her.

To become intimate in such a way with a master… was of the utmost shame to a maid. There was no way. It was impossible. Not even an option worth considering. Shuichi must never find out about this, she had to take care of it quietly. The boy had a kind heart, he would try to force himself to love her to save her life. That was something she could not condone.

And yet… why was Kirumi now imagining how soft his lips would feel against her own? Why was she imagining his soft voice, whispering in her ear the three words that would both save her life and cast shame over it for the rest of her days?

It was impossible. A fantasy.

A fantasy that she realized with a heavy heart that she wanted.

God, did she want it.

“Miss… Tojo?” Ameratsu asked, “Are you… alright?”

“I… I am not sure…” she shook her head, examining the floor, “This is… I don’t…”

She raised an eyebrow as she noticed the doctor handing her another tissue.

“Did I miss some of it?” she asked.

“No,” Ameratsu replied, “You’re crying.”

The maid gasped slightly as she laid a gloved hand to her cheek, only to feel it come away wet. She was… crying. Faced with a decision with such a clear and easy correct answer, she was crying. It didn’t make sense. This feeling, these emotions, they were wrong. She knew they were wrong. They had to be wrong.

It’s all wrong. It’s all wrong.

Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrogwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrogwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwro---

Help me, Shuichi.

“H-how much time… do I have?” she asked, her voice shaking as she clenched her hands together in her lap.

“Depends…” the man replied, keeping his voice as even as he could, “When did you first start to notice symptoms?”

“Two days ago, I believe. That was when I first coughed petals, at least.”

“In that case, that’s good. It’s just in it’s beginning stages, so it shouldn’t have spread to anywhere else yet. I’ll make an appointment for you to undergo the surgery in two months’ time. At that point, if the symptoms aren’t gone, there’s just no other option.”

Kirumi nodded dully. Two months. She had two months to decide.

“I’ll give you two prescriptions,” Ameratsu continued, “One you can fill out today, the other you should get filled when it spreads to your stomach.”

“When will I know that has happened?”

“Well… when you start vomiting petals instead of just coughing them up.”

Kirumi sighed. Not the answer she was hoping for, but it made sense. 

“Is this the… Ecosystem Treatment you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Ameratsu nodded, “The first prescription is an inhaler. Take two puffs every hour, on the hour, the other is an oral pill. Both of them effectively do the same thing; introduce microbes and larvae to the environments of your lungs and stomach so that they can eat away at the flowers. It won’t slow down the spread, but it should at least keep the symptoms at bay.”

The doctor ripped two prescription sheets off of his pad and handed them to her, which she accepted and tucked them into her apron.

“One… final thing, doctor,” she said, her voice quiet as she made to leave.

“Yes, Miss Tojo?”

Kirumi swallowed, “Is there… any hope to keep the emotions after the surgery? Any at all?”

The man sighed, “...There are a few overseas experimental treatments, but they’re finicky and unreliable. Even the best ones only work half the time.”

The maid just nodded and left, not bothering to bid the doctor or nurse farewell.

Two months.

Within those two months, she would do one of three things.

One, get sicker and sicker, while pretending that everything was fine, acting her role as a selfless maid as best as she knew how.

Two, she might be forced to leave Saihara Estate and break off her work there. These treacherous emotions, in the end, may only hold her back. Her and Shuichi.

Or three, the unthinkable. To confess to an emotion she dared not even think of.

Three choices, each of them a mistake in their own way.

The next time Kirumi coughed petals, waiting in line at the pharmacy to fill the first prescription, she couldn’t help but notice that the petals had lost some of their silver sheen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter this time around, but a necessary one. In this particular Hanahaki AU, the disease isn't very common, that's why Kirumi had never heard of it. I debated that for a while, but eventually decided it would work better being a bit of an unknown variable.


	5. A Single Petal

September 23rd, 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

“You asked to see me, Master Hisao?” Kirumi asked, bowing as she entered the aging detective’s office, “Is there some way I can be of service to you?”

“Not necessarily ‘service’,” Hisao sighed, motioning for her to sit down. She complied.

Kirumi wasn’t quite sure why, but she could feel an uneasy nervousness growing in her stomach. The man’s steely gaze flashed over her like the muzzle of a gun reflecting a light, and she swallowed her apprehension. She winced in pain slightly, though not quite as much as she would have before she began taking her inhaler, allowing the microorganisms it introduced to her lungs to feed on the flowers that grew there.

“Miss Tojo,” Hisao said slowly, “You have been working here for over a month now, correct?”

“Yes, that is accurate.”

“I have to ask. How much contact have you had with people from outside this household in that time?”

Kirumi cocked her head slightly, uncertain of where this was going, “I… have had rather limited contact with the outside, in honesty. As a maid, the well-being and company of those here takes my priority.”

The man nodded, “And if I may ask, on the one personal day you have taken in your time here, where did you visit? Family, perhaps?”

The maid gulped, uncertain about how to proceed. She could conceal the truth without deceit, and explain the doctor visit without naming her ailment, but that might leave her open to further questioning. As the person interrogating her was a world-class detective, she selected the option that left the least to chance.

“I was just running some personal errands that day,” she explained in an even tone, “I was picking up several supplies for my work here, that had been exhausted and left unreplenished.”

Hisao’s eyebrow twitched in an emotion that Kirumi couldn’t quite read. Had her lie passed muster or not? The detective’s icy vision was too difficult to read for her to be certain, but he didn’t call her on it.

“I’m curious, Miss Tojo,” Hisao’s tone was anything but friendly, but not what she would call angry or hostile, “Have you any friends on the outside that you keep up with? Perhaps other colleagues in your field that you network with?”

Slowly, Kirumi shook her head. Oh, she did not like where this was going one bit. Her master hadn’t taken the time to ask after her personal life before now, why was this coming up?

“So,” the man finished, “No familial ties, no friends or colleagues you keep up with, and only errands being run on the one day that you spent out of the house. That sums up your life outside of your work here?”

“...yes, that would be it,” she measured her tone.

“I see. And how have you been getting on with the other servants? Are you close with any of them?”

Once again, Kirumi shook her head, “Master, if I may… what is this about? I do not recall you taking interest in my social life or relationships in the past, what has changed?”

Hisao didn’t respond immediately. Kirumi quelled a light chill in her spine as she felt herself being surveyed by the aging man, the wrinkles around his eyes serving only to guide the eye to his own icy, cold stare. Hisao folded his hands in front of him on his desk, and Kirumi’s trained eye identified a tenseness in his shoulders. Discomfort? Fear? Anger? Apprehension? It wasn’t positive, whatever it was. Although perhaps she was just projecting.

“I did not take interest in your social life…” the Saihara patriarch said with an even, slow, restrained voice, “...until a member of the cleaning staff reported seeing you cough up flower petals when you thought nobody was around.”

Panic shot through the young maid as she went rigid in her seat.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” she thought, “I’ve been so careful! Every time I have an incident, I always excuse myself to the lavatory! When could a member of the cleaning staff possibly have seen me!? And they reported it to the MASTER! This is it, this is where my time here ends, there’s no other way to balance this shame…”

“W-who was it that saw me?” she asked shakily, attempting to maintain her composure as her world crashed down around her.

Hisao just shook his head, clearly disappointed.

“Nobody saw you,” he sighed, “But you just confirmed the hunch. I’ve been around people with Hanahaki before, I know the typical mannerism changes.”

Oh, dear.

So that had been a test, then. And Kirumi had failed.

Finding herself unable to look the man in the eyes any longer, the maid just hung her head in shame.

“I… I am terribly sorry,” she murmured, “You should not have to bear with a maid so disgraceful… you may relieve me of my services if you wish, I will depart by the end of the day.”

Hisao sighed, rubbing the ridge of his nose, “Tojo… were I not taking an innocent life into account, I might just excuse you. But if the person you got the Hanahaki over is in my estate, sending you away would make me partially responsible. Maid or no, you’re still a young woman, and as an adult, that forces me to watch out for your safety.”

“I have an appointment for surgery,” she sighed, “If you send me away, I will survive. I must… maintain what little pride I have left. This shame will disgrace me, yes, but if you fear for my life, you need not…”

The detective’s gaze flickered over her for a moment.

“Yes, I figured that was what you were organizing on your day off,” he said, “You aren’t an exceptionally bad liar, Tojo, I’m just good at reading body language.”

Kirumi just examined her tensed hands in her lap. So on top of everything else, she had lied to her master, and he had caught her out for it. She would never live this down, not ever.

“So to surmise,” Hisao continued, “No family, no friends, no close connections with anyone on the outside, and you claim not to be close with any of my estate staff. So who then under my employ, Tojo, is causing this affliction for you?”

The maid just tensed, her shoulders quivering the slightest bit despite her brain screaming at them to remain still. Composed. Proper. 

“That is…” she murmured, “...something I would rather not admit to you. Master. My… my shame is already great, but to confess something as this… it would shatter everything that makes me a maid.”

Hisao’s eyes widened, seeing something in her words that she had been unable to hide. Kirumi felt a tear trickle down her cheek as the man spoke next, because to say it aloud made it real. To put it into words meant that she couldn’t hide from it anymore, and that was terrifying.

“Don’t tell me…” Hisao sputtered, losing some composure for the first time that conversation, “My… SON!?”

Kirumi felt herself shrinking in her seat beneath the detective’s accusatory gaze. Her shoulder hunched over her hung head, her knees slinking up to cover her midriff. She crossed her arms and held herself tight, as if trying to hold her quaking body together as she tried desperately to quell the shameful tears that dripped onto her black apron.

Hisao was silent for a while after that. Kirumi slowly regained her composure enough to glance up and meet his eyes briefly, but she tore away from the cloud of judgement and conflict that she found refracted there as quickly as she could. 

“I’m… s-sorry…” her voice shook despite her best efforts, “I… have no r-right…”

She trailed off, but the message was delivered.

“You…” the man said lowly, “...have gumption, Tojo. I’m almost impressed that one with your reputation would even allow yourself to fall for someone so… above you.”

The deep, black pit of shame that Kirumi had already been resisting in her gut swelled to twice its original size. He was right. She was a fool. Shuichi’s station was so far above her own that any fantasy she might have held was never to be anything more than that. He was an heir. She was a maid. There was nothing that could ever happen between them. She had been a fool to even consider him something so close as a “friend”.

“Look at me, Tojo.”

“I…”

“Look at me. Now. That’s an order.”

Tentatively, Kirumi looked up to meet Hisao’s gaze once more. His emotion, surprisingly, was unreadable to her. Whatever scorn she had expected to find there, whatever accusatory glare that would shatter her very persona, she was instead met with the face of a troubled father.

“Tell me. When is your appointment to undergo the surgery?” he spoke with a contained voice.

“N-November eleventh…” she replied.

Hastily, Hisao grabbed a thin pad of paper Kirumi couldn’t make out through her blurry vision and scribbled a few things onto it. Then he ripped off the top sheet and handed it to her.

“What is… this?” she asked, wiping her tears from her eyes to clear her vision enough to read it.

She froze. She had been expecting a form of dismissal, perhaps a referral of scorn that she would be forced to attach to her resume from here on. Not… this.

“That should cover the time up until then, yes?” Hisao asked.

“M-Master, you can’t---” she struggled to find the right words as she tore her eyes from the cheque he had handed her, “T-this is not right! I… I am…”

“You are correct,” the detective hissed, “It is not right. Forbidden, you might say. However, Tojo, I am not a cruel man. You will remain a servant of my estate until the date of your surgery, at which point, my son will be informed of the situation and I will leave it in his hands what to do with you.”

Kirumi balked at the man, unbelieving.

“B-but… Shuichi…”

“Make no mistake, Tojo, if I considered myself the only one with a say in the scenario, I would dismiss you on the spot. However, my son is a man now, as you are a woman. He must make his choice for himself. Should he… reciprocate… you will remain at his side however the two of you see fit. Should he not, you are barred from this estate henceforth, and Shuichi will be banned from seeing you again. Either way, your services as a maid under my employ finish on that date.”

Hisao’s face contorted in displeasure as he spoke the word “reciprocate”. As if the very notion of the word ringing true was painful to him.

“Master… your kindness, I…” Kirumi stammered, “I do not deserve…”

“That will be all, Tojo. You are dismissed.”

“But, sir, I…”

“DISMISSED, Tojo. Get out of my office before I change my mind.”

Kirumi’s maid instincts took over and broke her out of whatever disgraceful emotional state enough to stand and bow deeply. Hisao’s words were scornful, and his position on the matter was disapproving, and rightfully so. The man’s words only echoed what she had been telling herself this entire time.

Kirumi left hastily, heading for her quarters to fix her mascara before any servants saw her and could question her. However, once she turned the corner to where her chambers were located, she saw a solitary figure standing at her door, knocking on it.

The person that she wanted to see both the most and the least right now.

He must have heard her tearful gasp, because Shuichi spun on his heel. His grey eyes locked onto her, widening in shock.

“K-Kirumi!” he exclaimed, “A-are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Shuichi, I…” she murmured, resorting to wiping her cheeks with the back of her gloves and ending her tears with a pathetic sniffle to compose herself, “Is there… something you need?”

The young detective’s eyes saw right through her, misty with concern and something else she couldn’t identify.

“K-Kirumi…” his voice was soft, “You’re… crying. What happened? Are you alright?”

No, she was not alright. Nothing was alright. There were flowers in her lungs, self-hatred in her mind, and Hisao’s words still ringing in her ears. Nobody would be alright.

“Please, do not worry about me, Shuichi,” she managed, “Now, is there something you required?”

Kirumi flinched as Shuichi took a careful step towards her, like one would approach a scared cat to prevent scaring it away.

“Not anymore,” he sighed, “It’s not important. Kirumi… is there anything that YOU need?”

She needed to run. She needed to get away. She needed to escape his concerned gaze and his kind words, because they only fueled the piteous flame that burned in her stomach, reminding her of her failure.

So why didn’t she pull away when he laid a hand on her shoulder?

“Kirumi, please,” he murmured softly, “It’s just me, I promise I won’t tell. Just… what happened?”

Something soft and fragile within her broke. Well, again, that is.

“Shuichi…” she whispered, “You do not understand… you are the one person I cannot tell, no matter what…”

The raven-haired boy just blinked at her, confused. She couldn't meet his eyes, because she knew the worry that she feared to acknowledge so much would be waiting for her there. She prepared herself to say something she didn’t mean, to shut him down, to do anything to deflect his inevitable next question.

It didn’t come.

Instead, she felt his arms wrapping around her, the first cradling her shoulders and the second holding her head into his shoulder. She was two inches taller than him, but she still shrank like a timid little girl at his gentle touch.

“Okay…” he murmured, “If you can’t tell me, then at least let me help you in another way.”

She should pull away. She should shove him off. This was improper. This was wrong. This was shameful.

She pressed her head closer to him instead.

She didn’t cry, her tear ducts were vacant now. She exhaled roughly, allowing herself to relax ever so slightly against his intoxicating embrace, only to feel a jolt of panic as a single, beautiful petal flew from her throat and settled on Shuichi’s shoulder.

The detective blinked at it.

“No…” she murmured.

“It’s okay, Kirumi,” he reassured, “I understand now.”

Her eyes widened, “Y-you do!?”

The boy’s smile was sweet, if a little sad, as he replied, “Of course. Whoever it is, I promise you, they don’t know what they’re missing. I know what it’s like to blame yourself for other people, but you shouldn’t.”

So he didn’t understand.

The concept was so ridiculous that even he didn’t even stop to consider it.

“T-thank you, Shuichi…” she said anyway.

“Of course,” he replied, in a somber tone.

They stayed like that for a while, the maid in her young master’s arms, silent. Kirumi’s mind was in storm, her ideals clashing with everything else she didn’t understand anymore. 

Kirumi broke the embrace first, thanking the detective curtly and leaving to refresh her makeup in her quarters. He was gone when she emerged again.

The next time she saw him, she was delivering tea to him late at night as he worked a case. They didn’t speak of their embrace. Shuichi didn’t ask about the petal, or anything else. That moment was not to be sullied by reflection or additional thought.

That moment was as beautiful as the flower petal that had sparked it, and just as prone to rot if they allowed it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between this and Fuyuhiko in VoC, I'm realizing that I really have a thing for giving DR characters without canonical parents some really craphole dads. Oops.


	6. Conflicting Roots

October 1st 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

Two knocks, the second much more forceful than the other, and nothing in the way of a response. Shuichi was in deep.

Kirumi sighed, pushing the door open anyway. The tea set clinked on the platter as she carried it into the dimly lit room. As was expected, the furniture was in disarray, this time pulled away from not two, but three of the four walls in the concrete room. These three walls were, like usual, covered floor to ceiling in assorted documents, photographs, the occasional bird’s eye view of a map, and several sticky notes, all tied together by a veritable spiderweb of red string, the system of which eluded her. The boy himself was in the middle of the room, pacing around in a circle and mumbling, making an absolute mess of the bearskin rug beneath him.

Kirumi cleared her throat, moreso for the sake of propriety than hopefulness that it would work. It didn’t. After a few seconds of appreciating the pensive and serious expression on the usually mild Shuichi’s face, she tapped him on the shoulder gently.

“K-Kirumi!” he exclaimed with a slight jump, broken from his train of thought, “H-how long, uhm… how long have you been there?”

“Not long,” she smiled, “But long enough to take in the scope. Are you taking on more than one case at once? You shouldn’t be overworking yourself, Shuichi.”

The detective let out a dry laugh and sat down in a displaced armchair, scratching at his chin, “Actually… this is all kinda one case. There’s just a lot of evidence, and… well, incidents.”

“Incidents?”

“Do you really want to know? It’s not exactly pretty…”

The maid shook her head, “I’m no stranger to gristly scenes or morbid realities. Please, enlighten me.”

Shuichi sighed, “Well… it’s a serial killer. One of the more dangerous ones active in the world right now, actually. 97 victims so far, and I’m trying to catch them before they rack up any higher.”

Kirumi shuddered, “97? Who is this depraved individual?”

Shuichi looked crestfallen for a moment, “That’s… just it. I’ve got no idea. The victims’ only links are that they’re all Japanese, they’re all female, and they’re all between ages sixteen and twenty-two. No DNA has ever been found at the scenes, other than the victims’, their relatives never name any common names when asked about enemies… All times of death are random, there’s no locational link besides the country… I’ve got nothing.”

Kirumi squinted at the walls, attempting to make sense of Shuichi’s organization of you could call it that.

“Is there perhaps… any link between the causes of death?” she asked.

“Don’t I wish. No, there’s everything from poison to decapitation.”

“If there is no link whatsoever, how can you be certain that it isn’t just separate coincidental incidences?”

Shuichi sighed, “People get murdered all the time, that’s true, but the fact that there’s been ninety-seven murders of young women specifically within the last three years… that high a discrepancy means that we’re far outside the realm of coincidence. True, maybe I’m misattributing some of them, since the M.O. is so hard to pin down, but… there’s something here, I can tell.”

The detective shook his head ruefully and massaged his forehead with his hands. Kirumi felt a pang of sympathy as she observed him, bags under his eyes and sunken cheeks, his hair a wreck.

“Well, I brought you some tea. I hope you’ll drink some of it, you look like you could use the energy, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Of course,” the boy managed a weak smile as he accepted a cup from Kirumi. He held it out and allowed her to pour some earl grey into it, taking a tentative sip. Kirumi poured herself a cup as well and pulled another armchair over to sit across from him.

“Are you sure you aren’t needed elsewhere?” Shuichi asked, “Not that I mind your company, of course, but I don’t want to keep you.”

Kirumi smiled, “Shuichi, you are the only person in this entire mansion who would ever require my services at three in the morning.”

Shuichi sputtered halfway through the sip of tea he was taking.

“T-three in the morning!?” he exclaimed, “B-but I got started down here to noon! It can’t have been that long!”

The detective quickly dug his cell phone out of his pocket, only to realize that the maid was correct. She had actually understated, his phone read 3:23 AM.

“Shuichi…” Kirumi sighed, “Tell me you have not been working on this case for fifteen hours straight without breaks. Your body must need rest.”

Shuichi just gulped. Kirumi shook her head disapprovingly as she took another sip of her tea.

“W-well… what are you doing up this late?” he asked, “Shouldn’t you be in bed, too? Instead of, you know, down here with me, while I work on a case that I’m probably never going to solve?”

“I make it a point to go to sleep after, and wake up prior to, my masters. And what do you mean, you’ll probably never solve it? You’ve been working for fifteen hours, I imagine you must have made at least some headway.”

The detective hesitated before looking down in shame, shaking his head every so slightly, “I’m… afraid not, actually. I’ve gone over every case file, every interview, every witness testimony, every autopsy, and every alibi. I… I don’t think I can catch this one. I just…”

Shuichi trailed off, but Kirumi noticed something in his voice. 

“Shuichi, forgive me for overstepping boundaries, but… are you alright? You seem… angry at something. I don’t recall ever seeing you like this before.”

The boy blinked slightly before sighing, “...that obvious, huh? I’m sorry, Kirumi, I don’t mean to trouble you.”

“Not at all. If it’s anything I can assist with, please tell me.”

He shook his head, “No, there isn’t anything you can do, but… do you mind if I tell you anyway? Maybe it would do me good to get this off my chest to a friendly face…”

Kirumi smiled as she felt a warm feeling in her heart, “Of course.”

“I’m angry, you’re right… but mostly at myself. I mean, I’m supposed to be some incredible detective… people are counting on me and everything, but… I don’t know what to do. I’m fresh out of leads, and this person is still out there, probably going to kill again, and I… I can’t stop it.”

“Shuichi… from what you’ve described, it sounds as though nobody could solve this case, reputation or not.”

Shuichi furrowed his brow, “Well… that’s nice of you to say, Kirumi, but it’s hard for me to just accept that. I guess all I can do is call up Kyoko tomorrow and ask for her help. She’s much better at this than I am.”

Kirumi nodded slowly, remembering the aura of pure, cold logic and willpower that she had felt emanating from the violet-haired detective the one time she had met her.

“Perhaps skillwise, but you shouldn’t make a habit of comparing yourself to others, Shuichi. Kirigiri called you her colleague, that means she views you as an equal. Not being able to solve a single case doesn’t make you a bad detective.”

The raven-haired boy shook his head, “I can’t accept that, Kirumi, I’m sorry. People are relying on me. The families of the victims are relying on me and I… I don’t want to let them down, but…”

The maid reached over and laid a reassuring hand on his knee, which had been bouncing absently, “Do not blame yourself for not being able to do the impossible. Sometimes the truth cannot be found, no matter how hard anyone tries. That is not your fault, it is just the way things are. If anything, you should be proud that you were able to take it as far as you did.”

Shuichi was silent for a moment, cupping his hands beneath his chin in thought, before finally sighing and nodding.

“...Thanks, Kirumi,” he allowed himself to smile, “That… did help, a bit.”

The maid’s heart swelled at the sight of the boy’s lips turned upwards at last. She hadn’t seen much of him that day, for obvious reasons, and given everything that was going on, she had missed that smile.

“Think nothing of it,” she shook her head, “After all, I c-----”

Kirumi lurched forwards as her gag reflex caught, sending her retching instead of coughing. She clutched the arms of her chair in support as Shuichi sprung up from his chair in surprise.

“K-Kirumi!” he exclaimed, “Are you alright!?”

Kirumi tried to respond, but it just came out as a disgusting gagging sound as her stomach bubbled up with bile. Frantically, she gestured at a trash can in the corner of the room, which Shuichi just about dove for and passed to her. After a few seconds of dry retching, she finally vomited into the plastic bowl, and gasped at what waited there.

Not just petals. Entire flowers, covered in bile and blood and partially digested food, floated in the bottom of the disgusting mess. Her stomach was empty now, but her body still protested with more empty retching, the pain of which brought tears to her eyes. Kirumi tried desperately not to think about how shameful a creature she must look like at that moment, while Shuichi patted her on the back and held her shoulder in support. Eventually, the awfulness subsided, and Kirumi swallowed what remained of the acidic bile in her mouth with a grimace.

“Here,” Shuichi said, digging a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to her. Her first instinct was to reject it, as she knew that whatever she would be wiping from her mouth would most certainly sully the beautiful black rose design, but Shuichi’s concerned gaze was enough to convince her to take it.

“I am… terribly s-sorry,” she managed, still pained somewhat, “I-I will empty this b-bin now…”

“You will empty the bin when you can stand, Kirumi,” Shuichi replied with a reassuring smile as he guided her to sit back down, “Give yourself a minute, okay? You just threw up, you need one.”

The maid sighed and nodded in resolution. Her gloved hands wiped away the singular streaks of tears that had formed along her cheeks, before she noticed Shuichi examining the contents of the trash bin and she felt a jolt of panic.

“S-Shuichi…” she whispered, “P-please don’t concern yourself with that…”

The boy gave her a sad look, only to shake his head, “Kirumi… I’m your friend, I’m going to worry about you. Look, after last time… I did some research, and… be honest with me here. Are you okay?”

Kirumi swallowed roughly, “Yes, I will… be alright. Again, I must ask you not to concern yourself over---”

“Over your potentially life-threatening disease?” Shuichi sighed, “Fine, but… you aren’t just coughing them up anymore, clearly. I just… I want you to be safe, okay? I care about your well-being, Kirumi, and since this clearly isn’t a new thing…”

“Do not worry, Shuichi…” she shook her head, “I have an appointment for surgery in place, I will live. I am just… rather selfishly, I suppose… procrastinating it.”

The detective nodded, understanding, “I get it, really, I do. And look, I won’t claim to fully understand your headspace, but… if you ever need to talk to someone, and I mean ever… don’t put your maid instincts over your need to reach out. I’m here for you, okay?”

“You are the only person I could never reach out to, Shuichi,” she thought.

Instead, she lied, “...I will. But… could you make me a promise as well, Shuichi?”

“Anything you need.”

“Please, no matter what happens… do not attempt to find out… who it is for. Please.”

Shuichi thought for a moment, his eyes shifting in the dull light, before inhaling deep and sighing loudly.

“...alright,” he murmured, giving her a light smile that both broke and gave life to her, “I guess if I did, all I would do is give the idiot a piece of my mind, heh. You have my word, I won’t look into it.”

“Thank you, Shuichi,” she smiled back, “Truly, thank you.”

“No problem.”

The raven-haired boy stood and walked over to the coffee table, which had been pressed up against the wall. He retrieved a handful of tissues from the box there, and set about mopping up the spilled tea from the cup Kirumi hadn’t even noticed that she had dropped.

“O-oh, allow me to get that…” she made to stand, but her arms were still wobbly on the armrests.

“No, I’ve got it, don’t worry,” Shuichi smiled and deposited the wad of now-wet tissues, as well as the broken shards of china, into the trash bin, “I’m a detective, remember? At some times, that really just makes me a standard police officer with an exponentially higher pay grade. I’m not unused to a little elbow grease.”

“But between the two of us, I am the mai---”

“Between the two of us, I’m the only one who can stand,” the boy cut her off with a playful twinkle in his eye, and there was a jolt of something unidentifiable but not unpleasant that prevented her from objecting further.

Kirumi sighed and settled back somewhat in her seat, allowing her body to recuperate. Eventually, the wobbliness in her limbs subsided, along with the acidic burn in her throat, and she was able to shakily get to her feet. She would have to make a note to pick up that second prescription tomorrow, at some point.

“I suppose we should head to bed,” Shuichi held out his arm in an offer of support, which she declined with a polite shake of her head, “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

“Shuichi, the offending flowers are in the trash, not still in my stomach,” Kirumi shook her head, “You don’t need to worry about me disgracing myself again.”

“Who says I’m offering out of worry?” he asked with a smile, “Maybe I just want to enjoy your company a little longer.”

For all Kirumi had been stomaching and quelling her jolts of emotion while around the detective so far, her walls melted at that. Rosy pink dusted across her cheeks as utter admiration blossomed in her chest for the young man.

“In that case…” she replied with as much of a smile as she could allow herself, “I would be happy to join you.”

The pair walked in tandem out of the room and through the maze of underground passageways. Shuichi stopped at the kitchen to rinse the trash can out in the sink, before the pair of them continued up to the second floor, where Kirumi’s quarters were located.

“So…” she began out of curiosity, “You do physical labour in your line of work? Such as what?”

“Oh, all sorts of things,” Shuichi chuckled, waving a hand that just looked too soft and holdable for its own good, “Kyoko likes to get as down and dirty with crime scenes as possible, to be as thorough as possible. Whenever we work a case together, I sorta just get dragged along. One time, she had me climbing through an air duct for twenty minutes so that we could find a murderer’s escape route.”

“I see,” Kirumi nodded, “Would you consider Kirigiri a friend of yours? It would be… reassuring to know that your maid is not the only person you consider yourself close to.”

“Kyoko… I suppose you could consider her a friend of mine, though not in the traditional sense… we’re close because of networking and being in the same field around the same age, but there are times when I honestly can’t even tell if she likes me.”

“Yes… she didn’t strike me as the type to be outward about that type of thing. Does she truly not emote at all?”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d call her some kind of ice queen, she has her mome---”

Saliva caught in Shuichi’s throat as they made it to Kirumi’s quarters. He covered his mouth and gave one sharp cough, clearing it.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

Kirumi didn’t reply.

Words were somewhat failing her as her eyes widened to what Shuichi didn’t notice.

A single, dark blue rose petal, fluttering to the floor between them, illuminated only slightly by the moonlight streaming in from the windows. It was small, Shuichi hadn’t noticed it, but Kirumi had watched it all the way down.

“...Kirumi?” the boy asked, “Is… everything alright?”

“Yes,” she replied dully, opening the door to her quarters, “Good night, Shuichi.”

She closed the door before she heard him say it back. She just pressed her back against the door and slid downwards, tucking her knees beneath her chin.

She wasn’t sure if he was gone yet, but she could only pray as the sobs started.

Hanahaki flowers grew for a love that was not returned. That’s what the doctor had told her.

It wasn’t her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so very sorry, Kirumi.


	7. Drought

October 12th, 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

When Kirumi had heard the name of who was awaiting her at the door, in the entrance hall, she had expected a similar experience to when she had met Kirigiri for the first time. The standard emotionless detective persona, perfectly dead in the eyes for solving the cases that would make the average person’s stomach churn. Cold, calculating, well-informed, dignified.

This, needless to say, was not what she was getting.

Hajime Hinata did not look the part of detective, much less act like it. His hair was unruly, he wore a baggy green hoodie and skinny jeans, accompanied by a kind smile that gave the maid whiplash after meeting the violet-haired detective who was supposedly mentoring this boy. 

“Hey, Tojo, right?” Hinata asked with a wave.

“Yes,” she replied, bowing, “I’m told you are Hajime Hinata. Shuichi has mentioned you on occasion.”

The brunet smiled, “He’s mentioned you more than ‘on occasion’. It’s nice to meet you.”

Kirumi hesitantly shook the boy’s oiutstretched hand, “So what is it that brings you to the Saihara Estate, Mr. Hinata?”

“Not much, just following up on a case, and I figured a better set of eyes than mine would be useful. Is Shuichi around?”

The maid blinked, “I… was told by him that he was going to work for the day. Do the two of you not work in the same building?”

Hinata frowned, “...in fact, we do. He was listed as having taken a sick day today. He sure isn’t at work, at the least.”

Kirumi frowned as well. Would Shuichi have lied to her? Doubtful. Perhaps she had just misconstrued his meaning, and he was going to work somewhere other than the detective agency. 

“In that case, I’m afraid I cannot offer you a time at which he will return,” she sighed, “My apologies for the expense of your time.”

“No trouble,” the boy waved her off, “Do you think you could let Shuichi know I dropped by? This case is really bugging me, and I do need his help on it, so that would be a big help.”

“Of course, but are you not Miss Kirigiri’s apprentice? Could she not assist you?”

Hinata shook his head, “‘Apprentice’ is… a kind way of putting my relationship with Kyoko. Tell you the truth, I’m not much of a traditional detective.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Kirumi thought.

“Kyoko brought me on because I happen to be better at deduction than most,” he continued, “And, well, because I’m a lot better with people. She’s a damn good sleuth, but she freezes up in a lot of social scenarios, which aren’t uncommon in this line of work, heh heh.”

Kirumi just pondered for a moment. Shuichi certainly kept some interesting company. And about Kirigiri…

“I do not mean to pry…” she said, “...and do not ask after why I’m wondering, but… Shuichi and Kirigiri… what are the two of them like together?”

Hinata thought for a moment, before responding, “Well, they’re both much better at their jobs than I am. Whenever the three of us work together, the pair of them are like a well-oiled machine. Either one of them would probably downplay it if you asked, but if you see them in action together… it’s something to behold, for sure.”

Kirumi wasn’t quite able to ignore the pain of her heart wrenching inside of her chest. So they complemented each other after all. It was making so much more sense now.

“I… see,” she forced her voice to steady, “And is Kirigiri… aware of his… affliction?”

“You mean the Hanahaki? Yeah, she knows.”

Kirumi froze. Shuichi had… told them? In the time since she had accidentally learned of it, Shuichi hadn’t mentioned it to her once. As far as she knew, he had no idea that she knew of it. Why would he have mentioned it to his coworkers and not her? Did the thought just not occur to him?

Especially if one of his coworkers was the one who it was for…

“I-In that case…” she furrowed her brow, “Does Kirigiri… intend to do anything about it?”

Hinata frowned, giving Kirumi a strange look that she couldn’t quite interpret, “Well… Kyoko is no medical professional, nor exactly is she an expert in feelings, as I’ve already said. What do you think she would be able to do?”

Kirumi gulped. If Kirigiri was as inexperienced in emotion as both Shuichi, and now Hinata, made her out to be… would Shuichi be okay? If there was no chance of reciprocation from the violet-haired detective, Kirumi may find herself having to intervene and ensure that Shuichi sought out medical attention, much like she had. If he didn’t, well… that was a possibility that Kirumi refused to even consider.

“Indeed… I suppose it could be troublesome for the two of them…” she murmured under her breath in thought.

“Troublesome?” Hinata asked, “Uhm… what do you mean, for the two of them?”

Kirumi sighed. She might as well ask.

“Hinata… you have known both of them for longer than I have, so tell me… do you believe that Shuichi’s affliction is… because of his feelings for Kirigiri?”

A beat of silence passed as Hinata’s face morphed between about ten wholly different emotions, eventually settling on something between good humor and abject horror.

“Y-you think it’s for Kyoko!?” he exclaimed, “Oh man, that would be… something, I guess…”

Kirumi blinked, “So… is it not for her, then?”

“Decidedly not,” the boy replied with a light laugh, “It’s not… really my place to say who Shuichi’s Hanahaki is for, but… it’s not Kyoko. She’s actually engaged to somebody else, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

Well, that was unexpected.

“B-but who else could it possibly be!?” Kirumi was unable to keep the shock from her voice, hoping silently that no servants were nearby to witness her drop in propriety, “Kirigiri is the only woman that Shuichi has ever even brought up! Unless… is he even… heterosexual?”

That was a concept that she hadn’t considered before, and she instantly silenced the mental image that flourished in her brain, as she had to remain focused. 

“Pretty sure he’s bi,” Hinata laughed, “And, uh… like I said, it’s not my place to say who it is.”

The maid blinked, noting the boy’s tone.

“‘Not your place to say…’” she murmured, “Does that mean… you know who it’s for?”

Hinata gulped, tugging at the collar of his hoodie and not meeting her gaze, “Uhm, well… I mean, yeah… but I can’t tell you, so don’t ask.”

Kirumi swallowed roughly. She knew she couldn’t press the issue further, but if it was somebody that Shuichi had never even mentioned before, that only increased her worry. Was it someone that he truly had no hope of ever being with? She knew it would break her heart to see the detective happily with another, but she could never possibly allow him to be hurt, or possibly killed, by his disease. She had been intending on sitting down with Kirigiri about it, since she had at least met the girl before, but…

“I… apologize for pressing,” she bowed, “I am… simply worried about him. Hanahaki can be dangerous if nothing is done to address the feelings, and…”

“...You wanted to make sure he would be alright,” Hinata smiled, “I get it, trust me. Tell you the truth, this isn’t my first experience with Hanahaki, I generally know how it works. If things get out of hand, you have my word I’ll talk to the guy about it. That alright with you?”

“Yes, I would appreciate that, Hinata. Now, is there anything else?”

The boy looked like he was about to shake his head, before reconsidering, “Actually… there might be one thing you could tell me.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“About Shuichi. He talks about you a lot, you know, and just about all of it is praise.”

Kirumi blushed slightly, “Ah, well… that is nice to hear. As a maid, I do not work for praise, but it is hardly unwelcome.”

Hinata nodded, “Of course. And, well… I suppose I was just wondering… what do you think of him? Like… how do you feel about him?”

The maid blinked, unsure of how to answer such a blunt question, “W-well… I respect Shuichi’s abilities as a detective, certainly. He is a kind person, and a just master. A pleasure to serve.”

“That’s the correct answer from a maid, yes,” Hinata smiled, “But I asked what YOU thought of him, Tojo.”

Kirumi felt her face heating up as her eyes widened. Was it that obvious!? Hinata had mentioned that he was good with people, but her facade was expertly crafted! Yet… no, as she looked into his eyes, it didn’t look like he was fully onto her. There was something there, in his olive irises, that she could only describe as… nervousness? Was he worried about how she might answer?

“Shuichi…” she began softly, “...is someone that I consider a friend. It did not start out that way, but after he insisted on becoming much more friendly with me than a usual master… I suppose I have taken something of a liking to him. To be candid, I see much more potential in him than most people, and I… I wish I could remain at his side to help it flourish.”

Hinata nodded, but frowned slightly, “You… wish? You make it sound like you already know you can’t.”

Kirumi felt a jolt of panic, “I-I… well… you see…”

The words didn’t quite come. The brunet’s olive gaze, while originally describable as warm and inviting, was now piercing, as he seemed to stare straight through her eyes to observe the fabric of her very soul. Good with people, she decided, was something of an understatement. Clearly, she had erred in her underestimation of the boy as a detective based solely on his appearance and demeanor.

“Look, Tojo,” Hinata eventually sighed, shaking his head, “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But… just take it from me, Shuichi’s seemed a lot happier since you started working for him. If there’s any way you can find to stay, even if you think for whatever reason you can’t… as his friend, I would appreciate it.”

Kirumi sighed as well. The boy had no idea how much she truly wanted to remain by Shuichi’s side, but… with Hisao’s words still fresh in her ears after all this time, she knew it would not be possible.

Not if her heart kept breaking every time he gave her one of those damned smiles of his. 

Before anything else, she was Shuichi’s maid. If that meant sacrificing something dear to her in order for him to succeed, so be it. That was the very fundamental basis of selfless devotion, after all. She could not afford to compromise that, her driving principle in life, no matter what it cost her.

No matter how desperately she wanted him to hold her like he had in the hallway outside her quarters, just one more time. For just one more second.

“I will… see about it, if I can,” she offered. It was weak reassurance, she knew, but Hinata wasn’t the only one she was attempting to convince. Alas, her words remained empty even as she spoke them, but the boy before her accepted them with a sad sigh and a nod.

“I guess that’s all, then,” he said, “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“No trouble,” she bowed as he turned to leave, “I will alert Shuichi to your request for him when he returns.”

Hinata held a hand up over his shoulder in a wave farewell as he left, the grand mahogany door slamming shut behind him, leaving Kirumi once again alone in the entrance hall. She shook her head sadly, taking out her mobile and checking the calendar. Thirty days. Her time limit with Shuichi was half over.

She still had only two options. Confess, or disappear. She knew once she was released from her servitude under the Saihara name, she could just vanish from Shuichi’s life. Undergo the surgery, that way she could never hold him back with her emotions. Her foolish, childish emotions.

Her emotions that she knew he did not share.

But if she chose to do that… she knew Shuichi would never accept that as closure. And if she was being honest… she couldn’t either.

“Excuse me,” she called to a servant dusting a marble bust nearby.

“Yes, Miss Tojo?” the servant replied.

“Could you deliver some paper to my quarters when you have the time? I have a… speech to plan.”

“Of course.”

With that, Kirumi departed to see to the rest of her duties around the estate. Shuichi returned a few hours later, still claiming to have been at work, but she didn’t question him. His secrets were his to keep.

She told him that Hinata had dropped by asking for assistance, and she had quickly made her exit. She had also pointedly avoided him for the rest of the day. He didn’t ask after her specifically, which served her just fine.

Every moment she spent gazing into the grey sea of his eyes was one more moment she felt like she was drowning.

That night, when she began the first draft of the confession, was the first time she allowed herself to write, or even think, the three treacherous words that she knew were trying to kill her from within.

“I love you”.

She thought for a moment, and added “and I’m sorry”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My monkey brain struggled getting this chapter on paper. I had 2 uni assignments and a quiz earlier today, so I was just absolutely sapped. Hope it didn't make the work suffer too bad.


	8. Thorns

October 27th, 2021  
??????????  
\-----

Kirumi’s scream was ugly. Animalistic. Feral. Not even befitting of a vagrant, let alone an elegant maid.

Not that it particularly mattered. The hallway was open, and it was her only hope. Her people’s only hope.

“Run! Run, Kirumi!” she heard a familiar voice sound. She wasn’t sure why, but it calmed her.

“Please ruuun!” another voice, this one female and unknown to her.

“Run! Please hurry!” Male this time, but tinged with a metallic undertone.

“Hurry! Run!” yet another voice joined the chorus, egging her on further and further.

One footfall after the other. One rasping breath followed the last. Again and again. Her heels snapped off, causing her to stumble for two seconds too long. She missed the emergence of the cardboard cutouts that blocked her path, holding signs proclaiming her dismissal. Kirumi gulped as they began to close in.

A rope fell from the sky, landing next to her. A rope? No, a vine. A vine coated in thorns, but it was a chance. The thorns dug themselves into her skin as she climbed, destroying her hands and cutting into her thighs as she shimmied up slowly. It was painful, but pain was nothing. She had to get back to…

Who did she have to get back to? Why was she fighting so hard? Why was she enduring this?

No, no good thinking about it. Especially not when saws span out from the tunnel around her, spinning at just barely enough distance to not carve her to pieces, while still proving painful. Clearly, whatever force was behind that accursed bear, it was testing her resolve one final time.

So she continued, if only in defiance. If she ws beng honest, beneath the facade of unwavering dedication, there was a scared girl who knew, deep down, that she was about to die. If the pianist’s fate had proven anything, there would be no escape once the votes were in. Still, she persisted.

One shuffle after another. One flash of agony followed the last.

She was past the saws now, her garb falling away from being torn to tatters. Her arms were screaming at her to just stop, to just let go, just give in. Die with some semblance of dignity left. 

“Kirumi,” a voice came from above her, turning her exhausted gaze upwards.

A light at the end of the agonizing tunnel. Brilliant blue sky, a flop of raven hair, beautiful grey eyes and a kind smile.

“You’re almost there, Kirumi,” Shuichi said, “Just a little further. You’re doing so well.”

“S...hui….chi…” her vocal chords didn’t quite work through the choking sobs of pain. She reached a shaking, ruined hand towards him.

“You’re so close, Kirumi,” he smiled, “Come on, you’re almost to me. I’m so proud of you.”

“Sh...uic...hi… I… love…”

The vine snapped, and she fell, silver and black rose petals dancing around her body as it plummetted in a playful dance, mocking her by floating while she landed with a sickening crunch.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
October 27th, 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

Kirumi sputtered awake in her bed, hacking and coughing like a rabid hyena. The pain in her lungs was so intense that she could bearly think through the pain, until she finally worked the petals free and spat them forth. Dozens of beautiful, shining and blood-covered petals splattered on her floor as she coughed over the side of the bed, her vision growing bleary with pained tears.

“What was that… nightmare…” she thought as she wheezed, finally able to get air into her lungs, “It felt so familiar, but so… distant…”

With a shaky hand, she wiped the excess spittle and blood that had caked around her lips, before clearing what remained of sleep from her eyes and standing on wobbly legs. The petals were gone, but her throat still seared in pain at every breath, clearly raw and inflamed. With a twinge of disgust, she swept the fallen petals into a bin and mopped up the saliva and blood that surrounded where they had fallen, pooling into the cracks in the wooden floor.

“No sense in trying to get back to sleep now,” she figured, wincing at the clock on her nightstand that read 2:14 AM, “I’ll get some cleaning done whilst I have the time.”

Kirumi flicked on the light in her ensuite bathroom, before she stopped cold and stared at the pitiful creature that looked back at her from the mirror. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were caked and salty with too many dried tears. Her bedclothes, a casual pastel pink oversize shirt and underwear, were coated in a scarlet film from apparently having been splashed on. Her shoulders were hunched and trembling as her raspy breaths continued to send flashes of pain through her body. She sighed and hunched over the sink, stabilizing herself on the cold ceramic as she got her bearings. 

“What a mess I have become,” she felt a sardonic chuckle bubbling up in her throat, but silenced it before the pain it would cause, “To think, all this for a childish love… if the version of myself from even three months ago could see me now, what would she think…”

Kirumi cupped her hands beneath the faucet and took a sip of water. It was cold, and while swallowing was not kind to her, she knew that the water would soothe the inflammation somewhat. She washed her face, fixed her hair, and redid her makeup before halfheartedly pulling on her maid uniform and bundling her bedclothes to be washed.

It was something of a blessing that it was so late, or early, that none other was awake. Kirumi did her best work alone and undisturbed, and aside from that, she just didn’t want to be questioned as to where the blood on her clothes had come from.

It was just as she flipped the washing machine on, sending the indication of her bloody shame tumbling in soapy water, that she felt her mobile vibrating inside her apron pocket. She frowned and dug it out, flipping it on.

It was an alert that she was being requested. Kirumi furrowed her brow as she tapped the notification. Given the hour, it was probably Shuichi, but she could swear she had seen him heading to bed at eleven the previous evening. Did he just wake up incredibly early?

A digital map of the mansion floated up onto her screen, indicating that the request had been sent from Shuichi’s quarters, nearby to her own. She was about to set her mobile back into her pocket and head off when the notification repeated again.

And again. And again.

Shuichi was seemingly pressing the button to summon her over and over again, at an increasingly rapid pace, which he had never done before.

Until it stopped, and her phone fell silent.

Something was wrong.

Kirumi wasn’t quite sure how she knew, but the sense of urgency that streaked through her body like lightning sent her barelling down the hallway as fast as she could. The back of her mind brought back the memory of her nightmare, when a similar hallway had been blocked to her. 

Her run had been futile then. She couldn’t let it be this time.

In a matter of half a minute, she had arrived outside of Shuichi’s quarters, banging on the door in a manner that could hardly be called refined.

“Shuichi! I’m here!” she shouted, listening intently through the door, while trying to keep the desperate edge from seeping into her voice. She still didn’t know for certain if anything was wrong, but her heart was still beating out of her chest.

In the same manner as a spider would scurry into hiding upon being noticed, knowing the fate that awaited it. Kirumi knew, without even needing to see, that something was horribly wrong.

Shuichi didn’t answer.

“I am coming in!” she shouted, turning the door handle and finding it blissfully unlocked. The door was still blocked by something, however, as she tried to swing it open. Frantically, she slammed her shoulder into it, and whatever was blocking it gave way, allowing her to enter.

For all the panting her lungs were doing because of the run she had taken to get here, she felt her breath still as she saw what had been blocking the door.

Shuichi’s eyes were closed, his body stiff and contorted in pain. His hands were locked around his neck in what seemed to have been a death grip, his mouth still open and dripping blood. The area around where he lay was stained in a scarlet puddle, which the young man’s cheek now rested in, sullying his hair.

“SHUICHI!” Kirumi exclaimed, falling to her knees beside him and frantically checking for a pulse.

One second passed. Three seconds passed. Ten seconds passed.

His heart wasn’t beating. And his chest was still.

Somewhere in the mania of Kirumi’s mind, she remembered that the proper first aid measure in this scenario was CPR. Shuichi wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be, not this soon. She could see the button to summon her in his hand, he couldn’t have been like this for more than a minute at this point.

CPR Step 1: Check the airway, and clear it if obstructed.

Kirumi froze as she held Shuichi’s chin, peering into his mouth.

She could see flowers. Not just petals, but the full flower buds had grown up to the back of his mouth, brushing against his uvula. 

“No, no, no, no, NO!” she exclaimed, reaching in with her gloved fingers to try to pull away the flowers. She then froze in the middle of a tug as she realized the implications of what she was seeing.

The blue roses had grown up from Shuichi’s lungs, leaving stems all the way, which would be blocking his breathing.

And rose stems had thorns.

“I’m sorry…” she choked, only now realizing that tears were once again streaming down her cheeks. She reached further in, to the point that she surely would have been triggering his gag reflex had he been conscious, and grasped the stems of the roses. The thorns digging into her palms sent a familiar chill down her spine, but she stomached it for now.

They came free, roots and all, in three tugs. God, the tearing sound that came with it made her want to puke.

Crimson blood, Shuichi’s blood, coated her entire sleeve as it cascaded like a waterfall from his throat. Kirumi could only pray that liquid couldn’t get into his lungs at this angle as she began to pump his chest desperately.

“You damned fool…” she sobbed as she felt a rib crack beneath her compressions, “How could you let it get this bad!? You… I cannot lose you like this! Damnit, I…”

Kirumi pressed her mouth against his, breathing air into his injured lungs three times, before crying, “I’M NOT OUT OF TIME YET! I HAVEN’T EVEN TOLD YOU! DON’T… D-DON’T LEAVE, S-SHUICHI!”

Thirty more chest compressions, three more breaths, and Kirumi knew she should be starting to lose hope. She also knew she couldn’t afford to, and she banished the encroaching sense of despair as she continued against all odds.

She would never forgive Shuichi for not saying anything. She would never forgive whoever he loved for being so damned foolish.

She would never forgive herself for not noticing.

Shuichi coughed.

“SHUICHI!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening as the boy’s opened slowly.

“Kiru…. cleaugh…” he replied, before swallowing roughly and wincing. His throat was still torn to tatters from the roses she had ripped out.

Kirumi couldn’t quite stop herself from wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, bringing his bleary head to her chest as she continued to sob, “Y-you… y-you are okay… I am h-here, Shuichi…”

As reassuring as she was trying to make her words, she was saying them for her own benefit as well. Shuichi was going to be okay. She had made it in time.

“Kirumi…” the detective finally managed, his voice little more than a weak whisper, as using it brought him more pain, “I… I’m sorry…”

“You fool…” she sobbed into his hair, stroking it softly, “How could you… how could you not say anything? If I had known it was this bad, I…”

Kirumi lost her words as she felt the boy’s body begin to rack with sobs to mirror her own, his arms clutching around her back.

“I… I’m so sorry…” he whimpered, hanging his head, “I didn’t want… to tell you, because…”

“Shhh…” she quieted him by wiping the tears from his face, bringing his eyes up to meet hers, “It’s alright, I… I understand, just… You… save your strength, Shuichi. You don’t need to speak yet.”

The boy nodded dully as he sank further into her embrace, tears still falling from his eyes. Kirumi only wished, in that moment, that she could do something to quiet those tears, as she knew his throat couldn’t handle them for the pain they caused.

It was only in the backmost part of her mind that Kirumi knew Shuichi’s blood was soiling her uniform beyond the point of cleaning. The rest of her didn’t care.

They remained like that for what felt like an eternity, the silence of the sleeping house settling into them as they held onto one another. Shuichi’s hands dug into the material of Kirumi’s uniform as though it was the only thing anchoring him to life, and Kirumi’s gloves ran gently though the raven-haired boy’s messy locks as her poor heart slowly recovered. 

She had made it. Shuichi would be okay.

“Kirumi…” Shuichi eventually managed, wiping the blood and tears from his face with his sleeve, “I have to… apologize to you…”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for,” she reassured, stroking a thumb across his cheek to clear the tearstreaks, “I understand.”

“No, you don’t understand at all, Kirumi. I… the reason I kept this from you, it…”

Shuichi trailed off as he tore his vision away from hers. Either he couldn’t find the right words, or he couldn’t find it within himself to tell her. Whatever the case, Kirumi just pulled him tight once more.

“It’s alright, Shuichi…” she murmured, “You do not have to tell me. I just wish I could… be of more help to you, like this…”

“You’ve done enough, Kirumi. You… you’ve done everything…”

“No, I haven’t,” she thought, “I haven’t told you yet. I haven’t… left you yet.”

Instead, she just replied with, “I am here, Shuichi. Save your strength, you do not have to apologize. You will be okay, now. I promise.”

The raven-haired boy sighed, his breath ragged, “I… suppose the cat’s out of the bag, huh… no way to keep this from dad, not now.”

Kirumi blinked, “I… do not have to tell your father if you do not want me to, but… you must seek medical attention, Shuichi. There are treatments for this. I myself have been on two separate ones for the past one and a half months. You do not have to suffer in silence like this.”

“I…” the detective looked pained in more ways than physically for a moment, before sighing, “...fine. Thank you, Kirumi, I guess I’ll look into it. I wanted… I wanted to hide it, as long as possible, from both you and my father, but…”

“You do not have to be ashamed of love, Shuichi,” the maid sighed, ignoring the pain it caused her heart to tell him so, “The only shame is that whatever fool it is for is too blind to see it. To see you.”

Shuichi shook his head, a small, rueful smile breaking out across his features.

“No, that’s wrong…” he sighed, “She… is no fool, I promise you. She is… the most incredible and passionate woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

Kirumi couldn’t afford to allow her heart to shatter then. Shuichi needed her. So she held him as close as possible, as if his arms around her would somehow hold her together.

“Anyone could be called a fool…” she murmured, “To not love one such as you back, Shuichi…”

The boy just sighed and shook his head, “I… could say the same, Kirumi. You don’t have to tell me their name, but… perhaps we both have fools on our hands, if what you say is true…”

Kirumi gave him a weak, broken smile, as she replied, “No. The man I love is no fool. He may claim otherwise, but… he is truly incredible.”

A single tear dripped down the detective’s face, rolling over the hand that Kirumi had laid on his cheek, as he replied, “I see. In that case… you and he would go perfectly…”

“Perhaps in another lifetime, Shuichi. Perhaps we would.”

Kirumi never left his side the rest of the night, but they didn’t speak again until she was summoned by Hisao to bring him tea at around ten AM.

They had said all they dared to, and the comfortable silence played a bittersweet enough melody that they chose not to disturb it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One final chapter remains. One way or the other, this story will end.


	9. Uprooted

November 9th, 2021  
Saihara Estate  
\-----

Generally speaking, a single sheet of paper doesn’t weigh that much. 

Why, then, did the sheet of paper in the pocket of Kirumi’s apron feel comparable to Atlas’ burden, threatening to drag her into the earth? While she knew it was likely impeccable as usual, the maid constantly found herself checking her posture to ensure she was not leaning forwards.

Kirumi didn’t really have a reason for taking the paper with her. She already had all of the words she intended to use committed to memory. She didn’t keep many personal possessions, but this one felt wrong to discard. She knew she would probably feel differently come this time the next day, when these traitorous feelings had been purged from her system, but it was nice to hold onto as a keepsake, if only for the time being.

Kirumi lived her life selflessly devoted to others, but she decided she could allow herself that one selfish thing, if only for a little while.

“You asked to see me, Master Hisao?” she asked, entering the every-daunting office of the Saihara patriarch, who sat arms-crossed in the usual seat.

“Yes. Sit,” the two words were cold and unfeeling, but Kirumi didn’t let the shiver down her spine find purchase.

The maid sat down, ever proper, in the plush seat across from Hisao Saihara’s desk, and she couldn’t help but feel ashamed that she was finally here. The shame of the feelings she hid was old news at this point, but here on the threshold, they were all renewed once again. Like how a suicidal person might have made up their mind long ago, but would still question everything once again when peering over the high ledge.

“Your surgery is scheduled for tomorrow, correct?” the detective man asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “Bright and early at 7 am.”

Hisao nodded and eyed his wristwatch. It was 11 am at the moment, and Kirumi’s services were paid for until noon. She had only one hour left until she would be packing up her bags to leave.

And both of them knew what she would be spending that hour doing.

“So then the… illness… is still a problem for you, then?” Hisao wasn’t really asking.

“Yes, I… am afraid so,” she bowed her head, “It… is not ideal, and I accept that you may not consider me a fitting maid. My… sincerest apologies.”

Hisao waved a hand, sighing, “Enough of that, Tojo. I may have my misgivings about your feelings, but your work here, at least, was exemplary as I could have hoped. I will not be tarnishing your reputation, if that is what you’re concerned about.”

Kirumi blinked, before sinking into a low bow in her chair, “Master Hisao, I… I do not deserve this kindness. Thank you.”

“Forget it. You and I both well know that is not the reason I called you to speak with me this final time.”

Kirumi gulped as she hesitantly met the man’s eyes. Steely as ever, but she didn’t sense the malice she had seen there when the man had first deduced her feelings. 

“You… do not need to concern yourself with Shuichi, Master,” Kirumi sighed, “I… I will be confessing my feelings to him, but… I already know for a fact that he does not reciprocate. My confession is to be nothing but closure for both of us.”

Hisao’s eyebrow twitched, “You already know? Tell me, how are you so sure?”

“I… I am afraid I cannot tell you that, by order of Shuichi. But so long as the Hanahaki disease only blooms for one-sided love, then… there is no hope of reciprocation from him.”

Hisao shook his head, “Well then… in that case, I only have one final request of you. You are still on my payroll, after all, Tojo.”

“Of course.”

“My son… love or not, he has taken quite a liking to you. I’m sure you are aware.”

Kirumi nodded softly, feeling the shame bubbling up in her gut. Shuichi may not love her, but he did consider her a good friend. To be abandoning him like this… it would hurt him, especially once he found out the reason. Still though, there was no other way. Any other choice would only wound him more.

“When you do inform him of everything…” Hisao continued, shaking his head ruefully, “...be kind with him. My son is a great detective, but he lacks the stomach for many things. I suppose it is ironic that you will have to be the one going gently, as he will be the rejector, but…”

“I understand, Master Hisao,” Kirumi replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “And… thank you, once again, for… allowing me to be of service to you.”

The detective nodded curtly, “Very well. That is all, Tojo. You may leave, now.”

Kirumi had nothing left to say to the man behind the desk, so she simply got up and left. The hallways were empty, save a few servants bustling about, but none of them paid her much mind. Naturally, they had been made aware of her impending dismissal, if not the reason why, so her passing did not garner anything more than a few respectful nods as she made her way towards the one room that she knew he would be in.

This was wrong. This was so wrong in almost every way conceivable. Kirumi felt discomfort welling up in her chest as she approached the room. The basic wooden door of Shuichi’s office felt like a wrought-iron portcullis leading towards a medieval guillotine, but Kirumi forced the dread down. It would be of no use to her now. Not when it was inevitable.

“Shuichi?” she asked, knocking on the door softly.

A few beats of silence passed, before she heard a soft voice answer, “Yeah, come in, Kirumi.”

The maid pushed the door open to find a peculiar sight. The furniture was orderly and proper, which was always nice to see, but the shock of that paled in comparison to the figure she saw slouched in a plush green chair, not looking up as she entered.

“Shuichi?” she asked, eyeing the boy strangely. On his head, he wore a strange cap she had never seen on him before. It was dark, shading his eyes and hiding his hair. With that, and the boy’s posture in the chair, with one leg curled up against his torso, it almost seemed like he was trying to hide.

“I read my father’s financial records.”

Kirumi froze.

Shuichi sighed as he continued, “You’re being paid up until today, but then he signed a document finalizing your release. Kirumi… why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Shuichi, I…” Kirumi struggled to find the right words. This was in no way how she wanted this conversation to be starting out.

The raven-haired boy just sighed and pulled the brim of his cap down, hiding his eyes as he shook his head. Most of his face was hidden, but Kirumi could still make out the trembling of his lower lip.

“Shuichi, I can explain,” she said sadly, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He tensed up at her touch, and she quickly retracted it like it had burned her.

“Then explain, Kirumi,” Shuichi’s voice sounded hurt. Betrayed, even, and it struck her like a dagger through the heart, “Help me to understand, Kirumi. Why am I only finding out about this now?”

“Shuichi…” Kirumi swallowed. She was already off-script, but it was too late to back out now, “...I’m afraid I have been… terribly selfish. You’re right, you deserved to know of this before now, but… please allow me to explain myself first.”

The boy finally looked up to meet her eyes, and Kirumi felt her heart break as she noticed the telltale red puffiness around his eyes that she had seen on herself all too often as of late.

“Shuichi, the reason that your father is… terminating my services… is because… I have done something that is highly shameful of a maid. A black mark on my reputation, you could say.”

“Kirumi, in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve been anything but shameful,” Shuichi shook his head, “What could you have possibly done to offend my father?”

Kirumi swallowed, feeling the soreness of her throat greater than ever. She could hear her heart beating in her ears as Shuichi’s sad gaze combed over her, begging her to explain herself. To explain why she had to leave. To leave him. Kirumi clenched her hands together in front of her stomach, if only to keep them from shaking and betraying her too early.

“Shuichi…” she began, unable to meet his eyes, “I have done the one thing a truly selfless person can never do… I have…”

Her breath caught in her throat, making the final three words come out as barely more than a pained whimper.

“...fallen in love.”

Shuichi’s eyes widened as he stood, “You mean the Hanahaki!? Is my father… is he forcing you out just because you have feelings for someone!?”

Kirumi forced back tears as Shuichi’s face turned from hurt to enraged, “That… that bastard! Kirumi, I will talk to him, this isn’t right! You… you deserve better than this!”

“No, Shuichi…” she murmured, shaking her head sadly, “No, in fact… I do not, because…”

“Kirumi…” the boy’s tone softened as he saw the look on her face, “What… what are you saying? Of course you deserve better, Kirumi, this… I can’t abide by this, and you shouldn’t either!”

“You don’t understand, Shuichi… please, allow me to finish…”

The detective’s gaze surveyed her with a mixture of confusion, sadness, and pain, before nodding dully.

“Shuichi…” Kirumi felt the first tear fall from her eye, “You father has… in fact, been kind, in his own way… I should have been excused long before this, but… he left it up to me to tell you when the time is right. You see… the reason my service ends today is because… my surgery is tomorrow morning.”

“You mean… the surgery for your Hanahaki?”

“Yes, but… your father has allowed me this long to try to find another way, despite what he would wish, but… I know what I desire is impossible, and you must forgive me, Shuichi…”

“Forgive you for what?” Shuichi laid his hands on Kirumi’s shoulders, prompting her to look up and meet his gaze. He had laid his hat down on the couch next to them, allowing her full view of the grey eyes that she loved to lose herself in, but she couldn’t bear to meet, “What could I possibly have to hold against you, Kirumi?”

“Shuichi, the flowers in my body…” Kirumi cried, dragging out the moment, if only to savour the young detective’s reassuring touch for a moment longer.

“What about them, Kirumi?”

“Shuichi… they bloom… for you. Shuichi, you… the man that I love… is you.”

That took the young detective a few seconds to fully process.

“WHAT!?” he exclaimed, letting go of Kirumi’s shoulders and taking a few steps back, “T-that’s impossible! Y-you… can’t…”

“I’m sorry!” Kirumi cried, sinking into a bow both to apologize and to hide her face from him, “I… know you do not feel the same way, and that is why… I must leave, Shuichi.”

Shuichi couldn’t respond. If or not he was trying, and the words just weren’t coming, Kirumi wasn’t sure, but still she pressed on.

“M-my feelings for y-you…” she stammered, forcing down sobs, “I-I cannot allow them to h-hold you back, S-Shuichi, so… I must…”

“Tell me the truth, Kirumi. Please don’t lie to me.”

Kirumi’s eyes widened as she looked up to find Shuichi, fists clenched and shaking at his side. His eyes were closed tight and his neck tilted downwards, as though he was in pain.

“Please, don’t…” Shuichi’s voice was strained, “Don’t… lie to me, Kirumi. I don’t know what kind of truth you’re hiding, but---”

“I do not lie, Shuichi!” the maid exclaimed, taking a tentative step forwards, “I… I know it cannot be between us, but I… I love---”

“You can’t love me, Kirumi. And I have evidence to prove that.”

“What can you mean by that?” Kirumi asked, desperate.

“The flowers…” Shuichi sighed, and Kirumi saw tears streaming down his tensed face, “The flowers only bloom for unrequited love, and… if your flowers were indeed for me, then…”

Kirumi felt her world stop as Shuichi finished his weak sentence.

“...you would not have them, because… I love you, Kirumi.”

“W-What?” she exclaimed, “That… that cannot be! I feel the flowers in my lungs, even still! I… I do not lie, Shuichi, but… what you say cannot be true!”

“It is, Kirumi,” the boy shook his head, “I… I love you. And that’s how I know you do not love me.”

This conversation had taken a turn that Kirumi had not been expecting, which is why what she did next was something she hadn’t really been expecting either. Her feet seemed to move on their own as she took two steps forward.

Shuichi’s eyes shot open as she cupped his face in her hands, and with a rush of both exhilaration and adrenaline-fueled terror, Kirumi kissed him.

All too quickly, Shuichi pulled away, tearing his lips away from hers. Kirumi’s hands grasped desperately at the space where his face had been, between her fingers for such a painfully brief time.

“Shuichi…” she sobbed, “I-I’m s-sorry, I d-do not d-deserve---”

Kirumi cut herself off when she realized why Shuichi had pulled away. He had not pulled away out of disgust as she had originally assumed, but out of need.

He was coughing, and it was violent.

“SHUICHI!” she exclaimed as the first petals were forced out of his lungs, falling to the floor in a messy wet heap. Kirumi caressed his back, the dread sinking in ever further, before she noticed something about the flower petals that the boy was ridding himself of.

They were rotting away. 

With a final cough, and a huck of saliva and blood, Kirumi watched in awe as a long, thorny stem, black with decay, was spat out onto the floor. The root system was attached, and both maid and detective watched as the flowers on the floor rotted away into powder at an unnatural rate.

“It can’t be…” Kirumi whispered, her eyes still trained on where the blue petals had been, where not only sat a green pile of decay. 

“Kirumi… I…” Shuichi wheezed, eyes wide with surprise at what sat before them, “You… this can’t…”

Finding that the right words wouldn’t come, Shuichi seemed to choose something else to express himself.

His first hand went to the small of Kirumi’s back. The second wrapped around her head, caressing her hair gently and pulling her close.

As their lips collided for the second time, Kirumi felt a pulling feeling deep in her chest. She still couldn’t believe what was happening, simply standing as tense as a statue as Shuichi kissed her deeply. 

He… he had to be lying. This was a trick, he couldn’t love her. His flowers couldn’t be for her, that was impossible. It made no sense. Her flowers would not have bloomed if it was even possible that Shuichi loved her back.

And that, finally, was when it hit her.

Her flowers were a reflection of herself. Her own doubt had fed the roots, allowing the disease to take hold. 

The flowers would not have bloomed if there had been even a chance that Shuichi loved her back. That’s what her first thought had been, even as he pressed his lips against hers.

All this time, the notion of her fantasies coming true had never even crossed her mind through the shame. But now, as Shuichi held her head close in an embrace that was ever so warm and inviting, everything else was banished from her mind. Her doubt, her shame, her duty, it all vanished beneath the warmth that spread throughout her entire body.

A warmth that burned away the roots that sapped her.

Kirumi pulled away as the coughing began, her body finally shedding the affliction that had held itself over her high-and-mighty like a mischievous god for so long. She coughed, and it hurt so badly, but it didn’t matter. Black, dead petals rocketed forth from her mouth, splattering against the cold floor, soon followed by a decrepit stem and withering roots. Shuichi stayed at her side the entire time, rubbing her back like he was polishing gold, until it was all over.

“Shui...chi…” she murmured, still staring unbelievingly at the rotting piles of plant matter on the floor.

“Kirumi…” the detective whispered back, pulling her close against him once more, “I… I don’t know how or why, but… you…”

Tears continued to stream down Kirumi’s cheeks, but they weren’t tears of pain or sadness as they had been before. Kirumi had never cried tears of exhilaration before, but it felt incredibly renewing. Like the shluffing off of dead skin to make room for something new, something fresh.

“Shuichi, I…” she caressed his pale face with a shaking hand, “I… I love you, Shuichi! But… you…”

“I love you too, Kirumi…” the detective boy’s voice warmed her soul with its purity, “And I… I don’t care what you think your love will do to me, I… I want you to stay with me. I… I don’t want to lose you, not ever.”

“But…” her pride bubbled forth again, her very being trying desperately to find a reason to break away. She was a maid, he was her master. This… this was forbidden. Something she could never have hoped for, something that should never have some to pass, yet… here it was.

And Kirumi realized that she wanted it.

“No buts, Kirumi…” Shuichi ran a hand through her hair as she trembled in his grip, “Stay with me, at my side. Please. I remember I once told you that a few flaws only add to your beauty, so… even if you think it shouldn’t be… please, allow yourself this much. Allow us this much.”

“But your father…” she tried weakly, but her spirit wasn’t in it. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay. She wanted Shuichi to give her a reason to stay.

“My father can’t stop this,” Shuichi smiled, “You aren’t his maid anymore, remember? It doesn’t matter what he wants. So… stay with me, please.”

If there was a dam, made of sturdy cobblestone, somewhere in Kirumi’s heart, those words jostled the final pebble free. And with that, everything she had been desperately holding back came rushing forth, finally free.

“S-Shuichi!” she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, “I… I p-promise! I’ll stay by your side… no matter what! As your---”

“As my equal, Kirumi,” Shuichi cut her off, “If you want to continue serving me, I won’t stop you, but… never think yourself below me again. That’s what kept us apart, after all. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said again, nodding and smiling as tears cascaded down her cheeks, “As your equal… forever, Shuichi. I’ll stay by your side, I promise.”

The raven-haired boy pulled her in for another kiss, and at last, this one was not interrupted by any pesky flowers.

~~~~~~~~~~~  
May 10th, 2022  
Saihara Spring Home  
\-----

“Shuichi, I… I don’t know what to say…” Kirumi whispered, staring at the silver necklace that sat in the box that she had just opened, “You… remembered…”

“Of course I did,” the boy smiled, clasping her hand in his own, “I made you a promise, remember? Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” she smiled as she slipped it on. The silver was cold against her collarbone, as the emerald pendant pressed into the skin of her upper chest. Shuichi sidled closer to her to warm her up, without even needing to be told to.

“In that case, it’s perfect for you,” the detective smiled, “And you’re not allowed to say that you don’t deserve it, okay?”

“Perhaps I would have a year ago, Shuichi,” the maid kissed the man she loved gently on the cheek, “But compared to you, this necklace is a small prize. And If you think me deserving of you…”

“You deserve the world, Kirumi,” Shuichi smiled, “And more, if only I was able to give it to you.”

“This is enough, Shuichi,” Kirumi smiled back as she laid her head in the crook of his shoulder, “For me, you will always be enough.”

-END-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, I hope I had some of you worried I was gonna make this ending angsty. But nah, I'm too much of a hopeless romantic for that.
> 
> Hopefully I did this ship justice these past nine chapters. I admit, I made the conscious decision to write this entire fic from Kirumi's perspective as a challenge to myself, since I knew Shuichi's perspective would be much easier to write than hers. I know I'm no Ultimate_Philistine (and on the off chance you're reading this, massive props for carrying Sairumi for us on Ao3) but I hope I did well enough by these two.
> 
> I have a list of oneshots to knock out one by one, having gotten a lot of inspiration for other things between writing chapters for this. I'm obviously gonna take a little break, but expect an Amacha oneshot to be popping up on my page sooner rather than later.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> -SirMuffinsworth


End file.
